Thine is the face our driven souls shall wear,
O sweet serenity!— No earthly wind
Can rend thine azure mantle now, nor tear
Those veils that shield the radiant locks they bind.
Thy brow is calm with storm appeased; thy lids
Are heavy with the wisdom of all tears:
Thy mouth is strong with silence that forbids
Weary lament and craven wail of fears.
Within thy guarded bosom now no fire
Is ardent; thou hast hidden all thy scars:
We too may tread the ashes of desire,
And wing our spirits thus to touch the stars.