The Seraph Sings Before The Manifest God-One, And In The Burning Of The Seven, And With The Full Life Of Consummate Heaving Beneath Him Like A Mother'S Warm With Her First-Born'S Slumber In That The Poet Sings Upon The Earth Grave-Riven, Before The Naughty World, Soon Self-Forgiven For Wronging Him, And In The Darkness Prest From His Own Soul By Worldly Weights. Even So, Sing, Seraph With The Glory! Heaven Is High; Sing, Poet With The Sorrow! Earth Is Low: The Universe'S Inward Voices Cry 'Amen' To Either Song Of Joy And Woe: Sing, Seraph, Poet, Sing On Equally!