The shining rose called Pearl-and-Gold Shall never show In highest light, Dissolving into softest fold A purer glow Of warmer white: O ivory, ivory,

The glimmering robe of cloistered nun, Kneeling in bliss At vesper bells, No fairer radiance hath won Than even this The ivory tells: O ivory, ivory,

And so the beasts whereof we speak May still possess-- Ah me, who knows? The very loveliness we seek In nun’s white dress, In glowing rose! O ivory, ivory.