How many lives, made beautiful and sweet <br />By self-devotion and by self-restraint, <br />Whose pleasure is to run without complaint <br />On unknown errands of the Paraclete, <br />Wanting the reverence of unshodden feet, <br />Fail of the nimbus which the artists paint <br />Around the shining forehead of the saint, <br />And are in their completeness incomplete! <br />In the old Tuscan town stands Giotto's tower, <br />The lily of Florence blossoming in stone,-- <br />A vision, a delight, and a desire,-- <br />The builder's perfect and centennial flower, <br />That in the night of ages bloomed alone, <br />But wanting still the glory of the spire.<br /><br />Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/flower-de-luce-giotto-s-tower/
