What heart could have thought you? — Past our devisal (O filigree petal!) Fashioned so purely,
Fragilely, surely,
From what Paradisal Imagineless metal,
Too costly for cost?
Who hammered you, wrought you,
From argentine vapor? — "God was my shaper.
Passing surmisal,
He hammered,
He wrought me,
From curled silver vapor,
To lust of His mind — Thou could'st not have thought me!
So purely, so palely,
Tinily, surely,
Mightily, frailly,
Insculped and embossed,
With His hammer of wind,
And His graver of frost."
