To Make A Fairer, A Kinder, A More Constant World Than This; To Make Time Longer And Love A Little Stronger, To Give To Blossoms And Trees And Fruits More Beauty Than They Bear, Adding To Sweetness The Aye-Wanted Completeness, To Say To Sorrow, "Ease Now Thy Bosom Of Its Snaky Burden"; (And Sorrow Brightened, No More Stung And Frightened), To Cry To Death, "Stay A Little, O Proud Shade, Thy Stony Hand"; (And Death Removing Left Us Amazed Loving);-- For This And This, O Inward Spirit, Arm Thyself With Power; Be It Thy Duty To Give A Body To Beauty. Thine To Remake The World In Thy Hid Likeness, And Renew The Fading Vision In Spite Of Time'S Derision. Be It Thine, O Spirit, The World Of Sense And Thought To Exalt With Light; Purge Away Blindness, Terror And All Unkindness. Shine, Shine From Within, On The Confused Grey World Without That, Growing Clearer, Grows Spiritual And Dearer.