Through.

Mackintosh, Gilardia, 1914

Oh teach the mind t' aetherial heights to rise,

And view familiar, in its native skies,

Thy source of good; thy splendor to descry,

And on thy self, undazled, fix her eye.

Oh quicken this dull mass of mortal clay;

Shine through the soul, and drive its clouds away!

For thou art Light. In thee the righteous find

Calm rest, and soft serenity of mind;

Thee they regard alone; to thee they tend;

At once our great original and end,

At once our means, our end, our guide, our way,

Our utmost bound, and our eternal stay!

Anicius Manlius Severinus Boethius