Have pity on the eyes morose
Wherein the soul its hope reveals
On fated things that ne'er unclose,
And all that wait what night conceals.
Ripples that rock the spirit's lake!
Lilies that sway beneath the tide
To threads the eternal rhythms shake!
O powers that close to vision hide!
Behold, O Lord, unwonted flowers
Among the water-lilies' white!
Dim hands of Thine angelic powers
Trouble the waters of my sight:
At mystic signs the buds unroll,
Shed on the waters from the skies,
And as the swans take flight my soul
Spreads the white pinions of its eyes.