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Our middle terms sketched out in prescient lines, Our finished ends anticipated live. This brilliant roof of our descending plane, Intercepting the free boon of heaven's air, Admits small inrushes of a mighty breath Or fragrant circuits through gold lattices; It shields our ceiling of terrestrial mind From deathless suns and the streaming of God's rain, Yet canalises a strange irised glow, And bright dews drip from the Immortal's sky. A passage for the Powers that move our days, Occult behind this grosser Nature's walls, A gossamer marriage-hall of Mind with Form Is hidden by a tapestry of dreams; Heaven's meanings steal through it as through a veil, Its inner sight sustains this outer scene. A finer consciousness with happier lines, It has a tact our touch cannot attain, A purity of sense we never feel; Its intercession with the eternal Ray Inspires our transient earth's brief-lived attempts At beauty and the perfect shape of things. In rooms of the young divinity of power And early play of the eternal Child The embodiments of his outwinging thoughts Laved in a bright everlasting wonder's tints And lulled by whispers of that lucid air Take dream-hued rest like birds on timeless trees Before they dive to float on earth-time's sea. All that here seems has lovelier semblance there. Whatever our hearts conceive, our heads create, Some high original beauty forfeiting, Thence exiled here consents to an earthly tinge. Whatever is here of visible charm and grace Finds there its faultless and immortal lines; All that is beautiful here is there divine. 
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