God hath sworn to lift on high Who sinks himself by true humility.

The voice that breathed o'er Eden, / That earliest wedding day.

In silence, . . . Steals on soft-handed Charity, Tempering her gifts, that seem so free, By time and place, Till not a woe the bleak world see, But finds her grace.

But when eve's silent footfall steals Along the eastern sky, And one by one to earth reveals Those purer fires on high.

As fire kindled by fire, so is the poet's mind kindled by contact with a brother poet.

If the Church of England were to fail, it would be found in my parish