Hail Holy Light, Offspring Of Heav'n Firstborn!

The Childhood Shows The Man, As Morning Shows The Day.

From Morn To Noon He Fell, From Noon To Dewy Eve,- A Summer's Day; And With The Setting Sun Dropp'd From The Zenith Like A Falling Star.

And, When Night Darkens The Streets, Then Wander Forth The Sons Of Belial, Flown With Insolence And Wine.

. . . For Beauty Stands In The Admiration Only Of Weak Minds Led Captive. Cease To Admire, And All Her Plumes Fall Flat And Shrink Into A Trivial Toy, At Every Sudden Slighting Quite Abash'd.

Hail, Wedded Love, Mysterious Law; True Source Of Human Happiness.