Bow down archangels*

'Bow down, archangels, in your dim abode: 
Before you were, or any hearts to beat, 
Weary and kind one lingered by His seat; 
He made the world to be a grassy road 
Before her wandering feet'*

And that world must have been filled with mirth
Just the same oft I find on earth
For thou art there to give away
With ease like the breeze holds sway
On our souls filled with poetry and paints
On our minds as they leave wonderous sense,

And I think more oft thee,
Had thou been there for eternity
Otherwise how is it I find the music same
Which once made a poet to write thy name
On every page, every book , every lane
That he took out of his sweetest pain,

If thou hath kept me in thy bosom wrapped
If for thou the waves come with joy so lapped
Is it not that happiness all should find
That fills mortal soul with the immortal kind.

(*note: the title and the quoted lines are of W. B.Yeats)

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