The imagined man before him crowned with light,
Proclaimed that God who hideth not His face,
His people's King and Father; open flung
The portals of His realm, that inward rolled,
With music of a million singing spheres
Commanded all to enter. Who was He
Who called the worlds from nought? His name is Love!
In love He made those worlds. They have not lost,
The sun his splendour, nor the moon her light:
THAT miracle survives. Alas for thee!
Thou better miracle, fair human love,
That splendour shouldst have been of home and hearth,
Now quenched by mortal hate! Whence come our woes
But from our lusts? O desecrated law
By God's own finger on our hearts engraved,
How well art thou avenged! No dream it was,
That primal greatness, and that primal peace:
Man in God's image at the first was made,
A God to rule below!

He told it all -
Creation, and that Sin which marred its face;
And how the great Creator, creature made,
God--God for man incarnate--died for man:
Dead, with His Cross he thundered on the gates
Of Death's blind Hades. Then, with hands outstretched
His Holy Ones that, in their penance prison
From hope in Him had ceased not, to the light
Flashed from His bleeding hands and branded brow
Through darkness soared: they reign with Him in heaven: