Poems Are Painted Window-Panes: Look From The Square Into The Church-- Gloom And Dusk Are All Your Gains! Sir Philistine Is Left In The Lurch: Outside He Stands--Spies Nothing Or Use Of It, And Nought Is Left Him Save The Abuse Of It. But You, I Pray You, Just Step In; Make In The Chapel Your Obeisance: All At Once 'Tis A Radiant Pleasaunce: Device And Story Flash To Presence; A Gracious Splendour Works To Win. This To God'S Children Is Full Measure: It Edifies And Gives Them Pleasure.