Page:Zinzendorff and Other Poems.pdf/231

Rh Came through Heaven's portal. High her vestal train Did bear their brilliant cressets in their hands, Trembling with pride and pleasure. Beauty lay, Like a broad mantle, on each slumbering dell, And to the domes that peered through woven shades, Gave attic grace. But on one roof, the eye Did gaze instinctively, singling it out From all this flood of loveliness, as turns The mariner to some fair isle of rest, Calling it home. I love to see thee raise Thy stainless forehead through the sheltering elm, Sequestered mansion. Other forms than those That I have reared, may in thy nursery play, Yet ne'er will I forget thee. Stranger-tones May wake the echoes of thine airy halls, And other names than his, whose classic taste Reared thy pure columns, and thy haunts adorned, May claim thy mastership: for change doth write With Protean pencil, on all things that man Would call his own. It is not meet that earth Or aught of earthly heritage, assume Heaven's feature of duration. Yet 'tis sweet, On Nature's beauteous page, to read of God, And I would bear the picture in my heart Of these sweet woods and waters, summer-drest And angel-voiced, until I lay me down On the low pillow of my last repose.