Stones from The Quarry | ||
LOVE “WRIT LARGE.”
How rich is Love! Love, the true Beautifier,The Consecrator! who embalms a flower
Touched by loved hands beyond base Fortune's dower.
Self-offer'd, through his heaven-lit altar-fire
The Human Heart must pass to all that's higher.
Sole Exorciser! whose diviner power,
Like Aaron's rod, can all ill things devour,
And that worse Spirit, Self (as Truth a liar),
Cast out and ban! O Love, confineless Love!
Thou scorn'st the gauds and gewgaws of the World;
For thy inheritance is from above!
Thou breakest down its barriers; unfurl'd
Thy flag by Him, who, gentle as the Dove,
Yet wise as Serpent, mountains can remove!
Stones from The Quarry | ||