Page:An epic of women and other poems (IA epicofwomenother00osha).pdf/116

The very stones seemed purer far than he;
And every naked rock and every tree
  Looked great and calm, composed in one long thought
Of holiness; each bird and creeping thing
  Rejoiced in bearing some bright sign that taught
The legend of an ancient minist'ring
To some fair saint of old there sojourning.

Yea, all the dumb things and the creatures there
Were grand, and some way sanctified; most fair
  The very lions stood, and had no shame
Before the angels; and what time were poured
  The floods of the Lord's anger forth, they came
Quite nigh the lightnings of the Mount and roared
Among the roaring thunders of the Lord:

Yet He—while in him day by day, divine,
The clear inspirèd thought went on to shine,
  And heaven was opening every radiant door
Upon his spirit—He, in that fair dress
  Of weak humanity his senses bore,
Did feel scarce worthy to be there, and less
Than any dweller in the wilderness.