Bright round the brows of banished age had shone [Ant. 12. 
  In vision flushed with truth
  The rosy glory of youth 459
  On streets and woodlands where in days long gone
  Sweet love sang light and loud and deep and dear: 
  And far the trumpets of the dreadful year
  Had pealed and wailed in darkness:  last arose
  The song of children, kindling as a rose
  At breath of sunrise, born
  Of the red flower of morn
  Whose face perfumes deep heaven with odorous light
  And thrills all through the wings of souls in flight
  Close as the press of children at His knee
  Whom if the high priest see, 470
  Dreaming, as homeless on dark earth he trod,
  The lips that praise him shall not know for God.

        O sovereign spirit, above [Ep. 12. 
        All offering but man’s love,
    All praise and prayer and incense undefiled! 
        The one thing stronger found
        Than towers with iron bound;
    The one thing lovelier than a little child,
      And deeper than the seas are deep, 479
And tenderer than such tears of love as angels weep.

  Dante, the seer of all things evil and good, [Str. 13. 
  Beheld two ladies, Beauty
  And high life-hallowing Duty,
  That strove for sway upon his mind and mood
  And held him in alternating accord
  Fast bound at feet of either:  but our lord,
  The seer and singer of righteousness and wrong
  Who stands now master of all the keys of song,
  Sees both as dewdrops run
  Together in the sun, 490
  For him not twain but one thing twice divine;
  Even as his speech and song are bread and wine
  For all souls hungering and all hearts athirst
  At best of days and worst,
  And both one sacrament of Love’s great giving
  To feed the spirit and sense of all souls living.

  The seventh day in the wind’s month, ten years gone [Ant. 13. 
  Since heaven-espousing earth
  Gave the Republic birth,
  The mightiest soul put mortal raiment on 500
  That came forth singing ever in man’s ears
  Of all souls with us, and through all these years
  Rings yet the lordliest, waxen yet more strong,
  That on our souls hath shed itself in song,
  Poured forth itself like rain
  On souls like springing grain
  That with its procreant beams and showers were fed
  For living wine and sacramental bread;
  Given all itself as air gives life and light,
  Utterly, as of right; 510
  The goodliest gift our age hath given, to be
  Ours, while the sun gives glory to the sea.