5.
“Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men.”
And over all there lay a bright serene,
A calm no man can speak, whose dread repose
Lifted it up above the joys and woes
Of this our turbulent unquiet scene,
And set apart: thus onward are they seen
Advancing: if it motion could be called
That was so like repose, whose peace appalled
The looker-on of earth, and rose between
This world and Heaven: while here a glorious group,
Turned Heaven-ward in its still slow measured dance,
Did Eastward through the lustrous trees advance:
While others from behind, in lengthened troop,
Looked up to where an angel seemed to stoop,
With trumpet-voice, and held their sense in trance.
