O worshipper of the formless Infinite,

Reject not form, what lives in form is He.1

Each finite is that deep Infinity

Enshrining His veiled soul of pure delight.

Form in its heart of silence recondite

Hides the significance of His mystery,

Form is the wonder-house of eternity,

A cavern of the deathless Eremite.

There is a beauty in the depths of God,

There is a miracle of the Marvellous

That builds the universe for its abode.

The One, in His glory multitudinous,

Bursting into shape and colour like a rose,

Compels the great world-petals to unclose.