7 br br The feet of people walking home br With gayer sandals go— br The Crocus— til she rises br The Vassal of the snow— br The lips at Hallelujah br Long years of practise bore br Til bye and bye these Bargemen br Walked singing on the shore. br br Pearls are the Diver's farthings br Extorted from the Sea— br Pinions— the Seraph's wagon br Pedestrian once— as we— br Night is the morning's Canvas br Larceny— legacy— br Death, but our rapt attention br To Immortality. br br My figures fail to tell me br How far the Village lies— br Whose peasants are the Angels— br Whose Cantons dot the skies— br My Classics veil their faces— br My faith that Dark adores— br Which from its solemn abbeys br Such ressurection pours.