The immortal could we cease to contemplate,
The mortal part suggests its every trait.
God laid His fingers on the ivories
Of her pure members as on smoothèd keys,
And there out-breathed her spirit's harmonies.

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Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Francis Thompson (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.