Page:An epic of women and other poems (IA epicofwomenother00osha).pdf/31

 But there in some unearthly way He wrought, and, with an inner spell, Miraculously did array That house of clay.

The very walls were in some sort Made beautiful, with many a fresque Or carven filigree of Thought, Now seen a clear and statuesque Accomplishment of dreams—now sought Through many a lovely arabesque And metaphor, that seemed to sport With what it taught.

Most bright and marvellously fair Those things did seem to all mankind; And some indeed, with no cold stare Beholding them, could lift their mind Through sweet transfigurement to share Their inward light: the rest were blind, And wondered much, yet had small care Whence such things were.