I Know What Beauty Is

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I Know What Beauty Is

I know what beauty is, for thou

Hast set the world within my heart;

Of me thou madest it a part;

I never loved it more than now.

I know the Sabbath afternoons;

The light asleep upon the graves:

Against the sky the poplar waves;

The river murmurs organ tunes.

I know the spring with bud and bell;

The hush in summer woods at night;

Autumn, when trees let in more light;

Fantastic winter’s lovely spell.

I know the rapture music gives,

Its mystery of ordered tones:

Dream-muffled soul, it loves and moans,

And, half-alive, comes in and lives.

And verse I know, whose concord high

Of thought and music lifts the soul

Where many a glimmering starry shoal

Glides through the Godhead’s living sky.

Yea, Beauty’s regnant All I know⁠—

The imperial head, the thoughtful eyes;

The God-imprisoned harmonies

That out in gracious motions go.

But I leave all, O Son of man,

Put off my shoes, and come to thee!

Most lovely thou of all I see,

Most potent thou of all that can!

As child forsakes his favourite toy,

His sisters’ sport, his new-found nest,

And, climbing to his mother’s breast,

Enjoys yet more his late-left joy⁠—

I lose to find. On fair-browed bride

Fair pearls their fairest light afford;

So, gathered round thy glory, Lord,

All glory else is glorified.