Classic Poem

The Crown of creatures, first in place,
Was of all creatures creature most:
By nature nothing — all by grace;
Redemption's first and loftiest boast.

Hand-maid of God in heart and will,
Without his life she seemed a death;
A void that he alone could fill,
A word suspended on his breath.

Yet — void and nothing — she in him
The creature's sole perfection found:
She was the great Rock's Shadow dim;
She was the Silence, not the sound.

On golden airs — by him upheld —
She knelt, a soft Subjection mute,
A hushed Dependance, tranced and spelled,
Still yearning towards the Absolute.

She was a Sea-shell from the deep
Of God; her function this alone,
Of him to whisper as in sleep,
In everlasting undertone.

This hour on him her eyes are set:
And those who tread the earth she trod
Like her, themselves in her forget,
And her remember but in God.