As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;



As tumbled over rim in roundy wells



Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell's



Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;



Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:



Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;



Selves — goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,



Crying Whát I dó is me: for that I came.







I say móre: the just man justices;



Keeps grace: thát keeps all his goings graces;



Acts in God's eye what in God's eye he is —



Chríst — for Christ plays in ten thousand places,



Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his



To the Father through the features of men's faces.









