There was a time we had the power
To build with Silent Thought
The perfect heaven-reaching tower,
As ancient seers have taught.
And periods have been when all
Felt subtle agencies
Envelop life with gloomy pall
Or glad sublimities:

When each felt safe in God's own care,
When eyes had farther sweep,
When angels' visits were not rare,
And Conscience dared not sleep:

'When Silent Lands, that no one heeds
But sentries of the van,
Displayed their good or evil deeds
Before the eyes of man:

'When all could read the Silent Script,
And ope the Temple's bars:
When every blade of grass was tipped
With signals from. the stars.

But now, for trust mayhap betrayed
Or pride too loosely checked,
The Silent Oracles evade
Our questions too direct.

Precisian pundits bid us think
The gods have never been:
The daylight pales the forms that link
The Silence -with the Seen:

Usurping Sun the sky-folk pens
Unwindowed in his blue;
The trumpet blare of common-sense
Our hearing deafens too:

But when we bid the band retire,
And the Sun unhorse his cars,
We hear an empyrean choir
And see-the Silent Stars.