![Ecclesiastical Sonnets - Part III. - XLIV - The Same, By: William Wordsworth](https://i0.wp.com/poetrycatalog.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/Ecclesiastical-Sonnets-Part-III-XLIV-The-Same-By-William-Wordsworth.png?resize=750%2C420&ssl=1)
What awful perspective! while from our sight
With gradual stealth the lateral windows hide
Their Portraitures, their stone-work glimmers, dyed
In the soft chequerings of a sleepy light.
Martyr, or King, or sainted Eremite,
Whoe’er ye be, that thus, yourselves unseen,
Imbue your prison-bars with solemn sheen,
Shine on, until ye fade with coming Night!
But, from the arms of silence, list! O list!
The music bursteth into second life;
The notes luxuriate, every stone is kissed
By sound, or ghost of sound, in mazy strife;
Heart-thrilling strains, that cast, before the eye
Of the devout, a veil of ecstasy!