xviii.
Regal mountains in purple vested,
Foaming torrents that seaward leap,
Coral isles with their palm-trees crested,
Fleecy clouds where the lightnings sleep,
xix.
Suns that flame in their crystal dwelling,
Still concealing, must still declare
Glories their splendid pomp excelling,
Truth too pure for our souls to bear.
xx.
Thus where the angels' songs are blending
With the silver sound of the builder's tool,
Year by year are the walls ascending
Of the mystic College, the Beautiful.
xxi.
Ah, light too keen for our wistful glances!
Darkens the vision and words wax cold.
Faintly flash on the spirit's trances
Those marble turrets and fanes of gold,
xxii.
Where far in the fair, ethereal spaces
Of the realm ideal, celestial lands,
The College reared of womanly graces,
Honor and mercy and wisdom stands.
