For he is grasped of God.
The Maker's cordial visage,
However good to see,
Is shunned, we must admit it,
Like an adversity.





X.

How still the bells in steeples stand,
Till, swollen with the sky,
They leap upon their silver feet
In frantic melody!





XI.

If the foolish call them 'flowers,'
Need the wiser tell?
If the savans 'classify' them,
It is just as well!

Those who read the Revelations
Must not criticise