In Excelsis

Two dwellings, Peace, are thine.One is the mountain-height,Uplifted in the loneliness of lightBeyond the realm of shadows,--fine,And far, and clear,--where advent of the nightMeans only glorious nearness of the stars,And dawn unhindered breaks above the barsThat long the lower world in twilight keep.Thou sleepest not, and hast no need of sleep,For all thy cares and fears have dropped away;The night's fatigue, the fever-fret of day,Are far below thee; and earth's weary wars,In vain expense of passion, passBefore thy sight like visions in a glass,--Or like the wrinkles of the storm that creepAcross the sea and leave no traceOf trouble on that immemorial face,--So brief appear the conflicts, and so slightThe wounds men give, the things for which they fight!Here hangs a fortress on the distant steep,--A lichen clinging to the rock.There sails a fleet upon the deep,--A wandering flockOf snow-winged gulls. And yonder, in the plain,A marble palace shines,--a grainOf mica glittering in the rain.Beneath thy feet the clouds are rolledBy voiceless winds: and far betweenThe rolling clouds, new shores and peaks are seen,In shimmering robes of green and gold,And faint aerial hueThat silent fades into the silent blue.Thou, from thy mountain-hold,All day in tranquil wisdom looking downOn distant scenes of human toil and strife,All night, with eyes aware of loftier lifeUplifted to the sky where stars are sown,Dost watch the everlasting fields grow whiteUnto the harvest of the sons of light,And welcome to thy dwelling-place sublimeThe few strong souls that dare to climbThe slippery crags, and find thee on the height.