Largess from seven-fold heavens, I pray, descend...

By Anne Whitney

Largess from seven-fold heavens, I pray, descend
On all who toil for Beauty! Never feet
Grow weary that have done her bidding sweet
About the careless world! For she is friend
And darling of the universe; -- and day by day,
She comes and goes, but never dies,
So precious is she in the eternal eyes.
O dost thou scorn her, seeing what fine way
She doth avenge? For heaven, because of her,
Shall one day find thee fitter. How old hours
Of star-rapt night about thy heart had curled --
And thou hadst felt the morning's golden stir,
And the appealing loveliness of flowers,
Yea, all the saving beauty of the world!