I would I could weave in
  The colour, the wonder,
The song I conceive in
  My heart while I ponder,

And show how it came like
  The magi of old
Whose chant was a flame like
  The dawn's voice of gold;
 
Whose dreams followed near them
  A murmur of birds,
And ear still could hear them
  Unchanted in words.
 
In words I can only
  Reveal thee my heart,
Oh, Light of the Lonely,
  The shining impart.