Alas! not only loveliest eyes,
And brows with lordliest lustre bright,
But Nature's self—her woods and skies—
The credulous heart can cheat or blight.
And why? Because the sin of man
Twixt Fair and Good has made divorce;
And stained, since Evil first began,
That stream so heavenly at its source.
O perishable vales and groves!
Your master was not made for you;
Ye are but creatures: human loves
Are to the great Creator due.
And yet, through Nature's symbols dim,
There are with keener sight that pierce
The outward husk, and reach to Him
Whose garment is the universe.
For this to earth the Saviour came
In flesh; in part for this He died;
That man might have, in soul and frame,
No faculty unsanctified.
That Fancy's self—so prompt to lead
Through paths disastrous or defiled—
Upon the Tree of Life might feed;
And Sense with Soul be reconciled.