Classic Poem

Because our tireless thoughts, a busy band,
Fly through the fabric of the mighty world,
Because our curious toil has half unfurled
The mighty scroll, and sky and sea and land
Are probed with prying eye and searching hand,
Because we spell the mystic characters
Letter by letter, — can our spirit pierce
The meaning? Do we read and understand?

Make not God's temple thy museum: kneel
Down on thy knees upon the holy ground,
Pure heart and reverend mind alone can feel
That mighty mystery that girds us round,
Without whose light no mortal eye can read,
Without whose life our life is dead indeed.