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1835–1900

The scarlet arch of evening fills...

Theodore Harding Rand

The scarlet arch of evening fills Heights o'er the vapor-laden hills With brilliant samite robes that flutter Something beneath that my spirit thrills.

O Infinite, and Whom I bless! Glow of embodied perfectness! O Sea of supersensuous Being, Whose tides the unutterable express!

( This, this it was that Plato saw On back of Heaven! ) — Let self withdraw From this o'ermastering light and splendor, These rolling waves of a trembling awe!

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