Classic Poem

Shaper of breathing lives, and Lord of all above,
Thy name I learned beside my mother's knee;
She drew me to her arms, and said that Thou wert Love —
Oh, art Thou Love to me?

I cannot rear my thoughts amid the golden spheres,
Where roll the stars about Thy throne on high,
But here in lowly wise I call on Thee with tears,
And feel Thy presence nigh.

Childlike to Thee I looked when came the night of fear,
On Thee I laid my sorrows of the day;
The whole earth spake of One who seemed to be so near,
It was not hard to pray.

The bolted doors that lock the corridors of Time,
And bar the awful avenues of Space,
My soul at last shall pass, and then, O dream sublime!
I shall gaze on Thy face.