Page:Poems, Alan Seeger, 1916.djvu/86

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That veiled divinity whose beams transpire
From every pore of universal space,
As the fair soul illumes the lovely face—
That was his guest, his passion, his desire.


His heart the love of Beauty held as hides
One gem most pure a casket of pure gold.
It was too rich a lesser thing to hold;
It was not large enough for aught besides.

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