How beautiful is holiness!--what wonder if the sight, Almost as vivid as a dream, produced a dream at night? It came with sleep and showed the Boy, no cherub, not transformed, 15 But the poor ragged Thing whose ways my human heart had warmed. Me had the dream equipped with wings, so I took him in my arms, And lifted from the grassy floor, stilling his faint alarms, And bore him high through yielding air my debt of love to pay, By giving him, for both our sakes, an hour of holiday. 20 I whispered, “Yet a little while, dear Child! thou art my own, To show thee some delightful thing, in country or in town. What shall it be? a mirthful throng? or that holy place and calm St. Denis, filled with royal tombs,[228] or the Church of Notre Dame?[229] “St. Ouen’s golden Shrine?[230] Or choose what else would please thee most 25 Of any wonder Normandy, or all proud France, can boast!” “My Mother,” said the Boy, “was born near to a blessèd Tree, The Chapel Oak of Allonville;[231] good Angel, show it me!” On wings, from broad and stedfast poise let loose by this reply, For Allonville, o’er down and dale, away then did we fly; 30 O’er town and tower we flew, and fields in May’s fresh verdure drest; The wings they did not flag; the Child, though grave, was not deprest. But who shall show, to waking sense, the gleam of light that broke Forth from his eyes, when first the Boy looked down on that huge oak, For length of days so much revered, so famous where it stands 35 For twofold hallowing--Nature’s care, and work of human hands? Strong as an Eagle with my charge I glided round and round The wide-spread boughs, for view of door, window, and stair that wound Gracefully up the gnarled trunk; nor left we unsurveyed The pointed steeple peering forth from the centre of the shade. 40 I lighted--opened with soft touch the chapel’s iron door,[232] Past softly, leading in the Boy; and, while from roof to floor From floor to roof all round his eyes the Child with wonder cast,[233] Pleasure on pleasure crowded in, each livelier than the last. For, deftly framed within the trunk, the[234] sanctuary showed, 45 By light of lamp and precious stones, that glimmered here, there glowed, Shrine, Altar, Image, Offerings hung in sign of gratitude; Sight that inspired accordant thoughts; and speech[235] I thus renewed: “Hither the Afflicted come, as thou hast heard thy Mother say, And, kneeling, supplication make to our Lady de la Paix;[236] 50 What mournful sighs have here been heard, and, when the voice was stopt By sudden pangs; what bitter tears have on this pavement dropt!