IV. Prayer.
They shall be satisfied with the pleasures of thy house, even of thy holy temple.
Hidden, exhaustless treasury, heav'n-taught Prayer,
Armoury of unseen aids—watchword and spell
At which blest Angels pitch their tent and dwell
About us—glass to bring the bright Heav'ns near—
Sea of eternal beauty—wondrous stair
By patriarch seen—key leading to a cell
Where better worlds are hidden—secret well
Where Love with golden chalice may repair,
And slake his thirst, nursing with fragrant dews
Heav'n's lilies fair, and rose on wild-wood spray,
Calm thought and high resolve! strange instrument,
Wherewith from spheres serene Music is sent
Into the mind, throwing o'er all fresh hues,
And mystic colourings—yet we cannot pray!
