Than all truths born of time;
And eyes that wept above two dear sons dead
Grow saving stars to guard one hopeless head.

Bright round the brows of banished age had shone [_Ant._ 12.
In vision flushed with truth
The rosy glory of youth 459
On streets and woodlands where in days long gone
Sweet love sang light and loud and deep and dear:
And far the trumpets of the dreadful year
Had pealed and wailed in darkness: last arose
The song of children, kindling as a rose
At breath of sunrise, born
Of the red flower of morn
Whose face perfumes deep heaven with odorous light
And thrills all through the wings of souls in flight
Close as the press of children at His knee
Whom if the high priest see, 470
Dreaming, as homeless on dark earth he trod,
The lips that praise him shall not know for God.

O sovereign spirit, above [_Ep._ 12.
All offering but man's love,
All praise and prayer and incense undefiled!
The one thing stronger found
Than towers with iron bound;
The one thing lovelier than a little child,
And deeper than the seas are deep, 479
And tenderer than such tears of love as angels weep.