Domes above, the mount of wonder;
Height and hollow wrapt in night; Hiding in its caverns under
Woman-nations in their might. Passing forms, the highest Human
Faints away to the Divine : Features none, of man or woman,
Can unveil the holiest shine.
Sideways, grooved porches only
Visible to passing eye, Stand the silent, doorless, lonely
Entrance-gates of melody. But all sounds fly in as boldly,
Groan and song, and kiss and cry, At their galleries, lifted coldly,
Darkly, 'twixt the earth and sky.
Beauty, thou art spent, thou knowest:
So, in faint, half-glad despair, From the summit thou o'erflowest
In a fall of torrent hair; Hiding what thou hast created
In a half-transparent shroud: Thus, with glory soft-abated,
Shines the moon through vapoury cloud.