Beauty. 
By Moore, Thomas. 


From "The Fire-Worshippers"

Oh what a pure and sacred thing
Is Beauty, curtained from the sight
Of the gross world, illumining
One only mansion with her light!
Unseen by man's disturbing eye, - 
The flow'r that blooms beneath the sea,
Too deep for sunbeams, doth not lie
Hid in more chaste obscurity.

A soul, too, more than half divine,
Where, through some shades of earthly feeling,
Religion's softened glories shine,
Like light through summer foliage stealing,
Shedding a glow of such mild hue,
So warm, and yet so shadowy too,
As makes the very darkness there
More beautiful than light elsewhere.