DOUBT spake no word in me as there I kneeled.
Loathing, I could not praise: I could not thank
God for the cup of evil that I drank:
I dared not cry upon His strength to shield
My soul from weapons it was bent to wield
Itself against itself. And so I sank
Into the furnished phrases smooth and blank
Which we all learn in childhood,-and did yield
A barren prayer for life. My voice might mix
With hers, but mingled not. Hers was a full
Grand burst of music, which the crownèd Seven
Must have leaned sideways from their seats to fix
In their calm minds. The seraph-songs fell dull
Doubtless, when heard again, throughout all heaven.