But swept their dwellings with unquiet light,
Shocking the awful presence of the dead;
Where gracious natures would their eyes benight,
Nor wear their being with a lip too red,
Nor move too rudely in the summer bright
Of sun, but put staid sorrow in their tread,
Meting it into steps, with inward breath,
In very pity to bereaved death.


XV.

Now in the church, time-sober'd minds resign
To solemn pray'r, and the loud chaunted hymn,--
With glowing picturings of joys divine
Painting the mist-light where the roof is dim;
But youth looks upward to the window shine,
Warming with rose and purple and the swim
Of gold, as if thought-tinted by the stains
Of gorgeous light through many-color'd panes;


XVI.

Soiling the virgin snow wherein God hath
Enrobed his angels,--and with absent eyes
Hearing of Heav'n, and its directed path,
Thoughtful of slippers--and the glorious skies
Clouding with satin,--till the preacher's wrath
Consumes his pity, and he glows and cries