Jane by John Masefield

In June time once, as I was going
Up Happen Hill, by Lob’s Pound,
I saw Them, many as snow snowing,
Hymning their Queen and dancing round.
In glitter and sparkle they were turning,
Scattering dewdrops in the green,
Their jewels shone, their eyes were burning,
And O the Beauty of their Queen.
And O the beauty of their singing,
It was as beautiful as She,
Perfect in tune, in time, and bringing
A deathlessness to mortal me.
So life I knew has this for kernel,
This marvel to which man is blind:
We make a blur round an Eternal
For ever shaming humankind.
They streamed away, away, before me,
With chimes like little silver bells,
They opened doors of glory for me,
And now I think of nothing else.

John Masefield