o <br /> <br />They float before my soul, the fair designs <br />Which I would body forth to life and power, <br />Like clouds that with their wavering hues and lines <br />Portray majestic building--dome and tower, <br />Bright spire, that through the rainbow and the shower <br />Points to the unchanging stars; and high arcade, <br />Far-sweeping to some glorious altar made <br />For holiest rites. <br /> Meanwhile the waning hour <br />Melts from me, and by fervent dreams overwrought <br />I sink. O friend! O linked with each high thought! <br />Aid me, of those rich visions to detain <br />All I may grasp; until thou seest fulfilled, <br />While time and strength allow, my hope to build <br />For lowly hearts devout, but one enduring fane! <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />o<br /><br />Felicia Dorothea Hemans<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/design-and-performance/
