XXI.

“And One to me, the nearest there,
Upon a brown and craggy steep,
Raised up toward heaven a face so fair,
With inmost joy I longed to weep.

XXII.

“He held a branch of darkest yew
That dropped with glittering tears of rain,
And loud he sang a song that drew
All things around beneath the strain.

XXIII.

“He sang of love, and death, and life,
And worlds and hearts, the homes of these;
Of peace attuning every strife,
Of grief whose pang the spirit frees;

XXIV.

“Of all that is, and journeys on
From worst of ill to best of good;
For not a moment e'er is gone
But in the next survives renewed.

XXV.

“And while he sang, the earth and skies,
And all those countless forms around,
More softly gleamed with shifting dyes,
And flushing drank the blissful sound.

XXVI.

“The trees were piles of trembling flame,
The rocks like diamonds heaped the sod,
Each star a living eye became,
And all, methought, were eyes of God.

XXVII.

“The stream that shimmered down the hill
In waves of clearest crimson ran;
And that sweet singer, brightening still,
Grew lovelier far than man.

XXVIII.

“His words upon the glowing stream
Sank melting down, and borne along
Upon the mingled floods of dream
All floated in accord to song.

XXIX.

“The world was changed around me all,
To arches rock and tree were grown;
I stood amid a pillared hall,
Beneath a roof of carven stone.

XXX.

“The windows beamed with many a hue
Of living forms in smooth array;
Again those Angel hosts I knew,
And through them shot the light of day.