I was a traveller in an ancient land
Who saw two vast and tow’ring walls of stone
Rise from the river. Unpropped, they stand
Halfway to heaven, by sunset’s light shown
Redder even than each iron-laced band,
Telling of a sculptor from whose great head
Flow designs magnificent; o’er all things
Must He reign. Of Him was it truly said:
“Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty,
God hath shined.” Back to His vast throne-room rings
The praise of all, rendered not from duty.
“The heavens shall declare his righteousness,”
Cry these hills, shouting beyond dispute. He,
O His people, whose wonders we confess.
*Brought to you by Psalm 50, with assistance pilfered from P.B. Shelly.