Poems (Whitney)/Raphael mengs and his "holy family"
So reverently he treads
This home where heaven is,
That you the steps might hear
Of the very angels near,
Almost as soon as his,
This home where heaven is,
That you the steps might hear
Of the very angels near,
Almost as soon as his,
Pure breathing of a soul
Whose depths we only guess,
Since unto it was given
To know so much of heaven,
So much he could express!
Whose depths we only guess,
Since unto it was given
To know so much of heaven,
So much he could express!
Gazing, the old ideal,
Paler, more rapt and still,
With sadly wondering eyes,
Just dips from her far skies,
And shames my laggard will.
Paler, more rapt and still,
With sadly wondering eyes,
Just dips from her far skies,
And shames my laggard will.
Humility and love,
Perfume of lowliest sod—
I yet can think that they
Winged our close world one day,
And went untouched to God.
Perfume of lowliest sod—
I yet can think that they
Winged our close world one day,
And went untouched to God.