X.

Each several Saint the Church reveres, What is he but an altar whence Some separate Virtue ministers To God a separate frankincense?

Each beyond each, not made of hands, They rise, a ladder angel-trod: Star-bright the last and loftiest stands— That altar is the Throne of God.

Lost in the uncreated light A Form all Human rests thereon: His shade from that surpassing height Beyond creation's verge is thrown.

Him "Lord of lords, and King of kings," The chorus of all worlds proclaim:— "He took from her," one angel sings At intervals, "His Human frame."