Three Hundred Sonnets | ||
225
THE ART TREASURES: 1857.
O God! how wondrous is Thy creature, Man,In spite of all his misery and sin,
Warrings without and wickedness within
That shrivel every blessing to a ban:
How gloriously through all his strife and schism
Thy perfect attributes, intensely bright,
Show milder and full-coloured in the sight
Of fallen man, creation's broken prism!
How richly is he unction'd with the chrism
Of Thine own wealths and wisdoms manifold!
This paradise of treasures, new and old,
Ripe with the rarest fruits and flowers of Art,
Pictures and ivories, and gems and gold,
To Thee, Great Spirit, lift both mind and heart.
Three Hundred Sonnets | ||