AS one by one the veils took flight, <br />The day withdrew, the stars came up. <br />The spirit issued pale and bright <br />Filling thy beauty like a cup. <br /> <br /> <br />Sacred thy laughter on the air, <br />Holy thy lightest word that fell, <br />Proud the innumerable hair <br />That waved at the enchanter's spell. <br /> <br /> <br />O, Master of the Beautiful, <br />Creating us from hour to hour, <br />Give me this vision to the full <br />To see in lightest things thy power. <br /> <br /> <br />This vision give, no heaven afar, <br />No throne, and yet I will rejoice <br />Knowing beneath my feet a star <br />Thy word in every wandering voice.<br /><br />George William Russell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/creation-65/
