Page:Poems for the Sea.djvu/61

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THE PROPHET'S VISION.

EZEKIEL XLVII.



He look'd, and from the Temple gate
   Where the bright orient glow'd,
Fast by the altar's hallow'd base
   A stream like chrystal flow'd.

Bathing the feet, that limpid spring
  With gentlest murmur crept,
Then deepening to a bolder flood
   In fearless current swept.

Till, spreading out, a river broad
   In strong, translucent tide,

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