So If Thou Hadst Been Scorned In Human Eyes, Too Bright And Near To Be A Glory Then; If As Truth'S Artist, Thou Hadst Been To Men A Setter Forth Of Strange Divinities; To After Times, Thou, Born In Midday Skies, A Sun, High Up, Out-Blazing Sudden, When Its Light Had Had Its Centuries Eight And Ten To Travel Through The Wretched Void That Lies 'Twixt Souls And Truth, Hadst Been A Love And Fear, Worshipped On High From Magian'S Mountain-Crest, And All Night Long Symbol'D By Lamp-Flames Clear; Thy Sign, A Star Upon Thy People'S Breast, Where Now A Strange Mysterious Shape Doth Lie, That Once Barred Out The Sun In Noontide Sky.