Ye distant spires, ye antique towers,
That crowned the watery glade,
Where grateful Science still adores
Her Henry’s holy shade;
And ye that from the stately brow
Of Windsor’s heights the expanse below
Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey,
Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among
Wanders the hoary Thames along
His...
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God is a distant — stately Lover —
Woos, as He states us — by His Son —
Verily, a Vicarious Courtship —
"Miles", and "Priscilla", were such an One —
But, lest the Soul — like fair "Priscilla"
Choose the Envoy — and spurn the Groom —
Vouches, with hyperbolic archness —
"Miles", and "John...The Moon is distant from the Sea —
And yet, with Amber Hands —
She leads Him — docile as a Boy —
Along appointed Sands —
He never misses a Degree —
Obedient to Her Eye
He comes just so far — toward the Town —
Just so far — goes away —
Oh, Signor, Thine, the Amber Hand...