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The more convenient way—That if the Spirit—like to hideIts Temple stands, alway,Ajar—secure—inviting&md ash;It never did betrayThe Soul that asked its shelterIn solemn honesty

Me! Hear! My foreign earThe sounds of welcome near!The saints shall meetOur bashful feet.My holiday shall beThat they remember me;My paradise, the fameThat they pronounce my name.

The Violet—is Noon—The Yellow—Day—is falling—And after that—is none—But Miles of Sparks—at Evening—Reveal the Width that burned—The Territory Argent—thatNever yet—consumed—

Since she and I had met and playedDecade had gathered to Decade –But Time had added not obtainedImpregnable the RoseFor summer too indelibleToo obdurate for Snows –

A Coronet to find!Who never thirstedFlagons, and Cooling Tamarind!Who never climbed the weary league—Can such a foot exploreThe purple territoriesOn Pizarro’s shore?How many Legions overcome—The Emperor will say?How many Colors takenOn Revolution Day?How many Bullets bearest?Hast Thou the Royal scar?Angels! Write ‘Promoted’On this Soldier’s brow!

The Stars express aroundFor in the Zones of ParadiseThe Lord alone is burned—His Eye, it is the East and West—The North and South when HeDo concentrate His CountenanceLike Glow Worms, flee away—Oh Poor and Far—Oh Hindred EyeThat hunted for the Day—The Lord a Candle entertainsEntirely for Thee—