And on his feet I knew the sandals were 
More beautiful than flame, and white, 
And on the glory of his hair 
The crown of night. 
 
And I beheld his robe, and on its hem 
Were writ unlawful words to say, 
Broidered like lilies, with a gem 
More clear than day. 
 
And round him shone so wonderful a light 
As when on Galilee 
Jesus once walked, and clove the night 
And calmed the sea. 
 
I scarce could see his features for the fire 
That dwelt about his brow, 
Yet, for the whiteness of my own desire, 
I see him now ; 
 
Because my footsteps follow his, and tread 
The awful bounds of heaven, and make 
 
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