Height and Depth

The Archangels burn before the Perfect Face—

Lighting all deeds from the Omnipotent's gaze.

With heads upon His breast the Seraphim

Tune their whole lives to the heavenly heart of Him.

The cherubs laugh within His lap and play

On faultless harps their rhythms of night and day.

What shall we mortals do? O ours to meet

With worshipping brow the flowers of His feet!

Keen are the raptures of the sky-born host,

Raptures with not one glorioled reverie lost.

We that have known the abyss of blinded birth,

How can we share those vastitudes of mirth?

Yet, through the passion of frail feet which stray,

A peace beyond all peace, a gold through grey

Felt goldener, the quiet and the height

Come to our wanderer love's upturning sight,

And by the bowed surrender of our mind

Deepest the immortal Secret is divined!

Archangels, Seraphim and Cherubs, you

Shall suddenly discover the All-True,

The All-Beautiful, a dark you cannot scan—

A Mystery that wears the face of man!

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