The city lights along the waterside
  Kindled serene as blessèd candleshine.
  The fires of western heaven, far and wide,
  Rose like the reredos of a mighty shrine.
  Slow swung the odorous trees from side to side,
  Like censers, twining twilight mist for fume;
  And on the mountain, that high altar-tomb,
  The sun stood full of wine, blood-sanctified
  Soft, soft as angels mounting starry stairs
  The smoke upclomb to space; the while a wind
  Sung like an organ voicing many prayers.
  I, sliding beads, mine errors to rescind,
  Of slowly slipping tears, heard God, who cares,
  Ineffable God, give pardon that I sinned.