English poem
The scarlet arch of evening fills...
by Theodore H. Rand (1835–1900)
The scarlet arch of evening fills . . . . . . . . . Heights o'er the vapor-laden hills With brilliant samite robes that flutter Something beneath that my spirit thrills.
O Infinite, and Whom I bless! Glow of embodied perfectness! O Sea of supersensuous Being, Whose tides the unutterable express!
(This, this it was that Plato saw On back of Heaven!)—Let self withdraw From this o'ermastering light and splendor, These rolling waves of a trembling awe!