From The Countess Cathleen - W.B.Yeats

ALEEL:

Look no more on the half-closed gates of Hell,

But speak to me, whose mind is smitten of God,

That it may be no more with mortal things,

And tell of her who lies there.

Till you speak 

You shall not drift into eternity.

THE ANGEL:

The light beats down;

The gates of pearl are wide.

And she is passing to the floor of peace,

And Mary of the seven times wounded heart

Has kissed her lips, and the long blessed hair

Has fallen on her face;

The Light of Lights Looks always on the motive, not   the deed,

The Shadow of Shadows on the deed  alone.