Page:An epic of women and other poems (IA epicofwomenother00osha).pdf/116

 The very stones seemed purer far than he; And every naked rock and every tree Looked great and calm, composed in one long thought Of holiness; each bird and creeping thing Rejoiced in bearing some bright sign that taught The legend of an ancient minist'ring To some fair saint of old there sojourning.

Yea, all the dumb things and the creatures there Were grand, and some way sanctified; most fair The very lions stood, and had no shame Before the angels; and what time were poured The floods of the Lord's anger forth, they came Quite nigh the lightnings of the Mount and roared Among the roaring thunders of the Lord:

Yet He—while in him day by day, divine, The clear inspirèd thought went on to shine, And heaven was opening every radiant door Upon his spirit—He, in that fair dress Of weak humanity his senses bore, Did feel scarce worthy to be there, and less Than any dweller in the wilderness.