DIVINE BEAUTY. LETTER CLXI

Oh beauty that doth far transcend
All other beauty! Thou dost design.
Without a wound our hearts to pain
Without a pang our wills to bend
To hold all love for creatures vain.

O mystic love-knot that dost bind.
Two beings of such diverse kind.
How canst thou, the, e'er severed be?
For bound, such strength we gain from Thee,
We take for joys the griefs we find.

Things void of being linked, unite
With that great Beauty Infinite
Thou fill'st my soul, which hungers still:
Thou lov'st where men can find but ill
Our naught grows precious, by Thy might!