The angels keep their ancient places;
Turn but a stone, and start a wing!
'Tis ye, 'tis your estranged faces,
That miss the many-splendored thing.


The Kingdom of God, st. 4


The angels keep their ancient places; Turn but a stone, and start a wing! 'Tis ye, 'tis your estranged faces, That miss the many-splendored thing.

The angels keep their ancient places; Turn but a stone, and start a wing! 'Tis ye, 'tis your estranged faces, That miss the many-splendored thing.

The angels keep their ancient places; Turn but a stone, and start a wing! 'Tis ye, 'tis your estranged faces, That miss the many-splendored thing.

The angels keep their ancient places; Turn but a stone, and start a wing! 'Tis ye, 'tis your estranged faces, That miss the many-splendored thing.