Let no man say, He at his lady's feet Lays worship that to Heaven alone belongs; Yea, swings the incense that for God is meet In flippant censers of light lover's songs. Who says it, knows not God, nor love, nor thee; For love is large as is yon heavenly dome: In love's great blue, each pa**ion is full free To fly his favourite flight and build his home. Did e'er a lark with sky-ward pointing beak Stab by mischance a level-flying dove? Wife-love flies level, his dear mate to seek: God-love darts straight into the skies above. Crossing the windage of each other's wings But speeds them both upon their journeyings.