Classic Poem

O taht I knew where I might find
My God, who hides his path?
To him I would unfold my mind,
And testify my faith.

I forward go to seek him out;
But, lo! he is not there;
Backward, but when I turn about,
He's gone, I know not where.

Upon the right hand, and the left,
Fain would I him accost;
But still of my desire bereft,
I find my labour lost.

His way is hid, but mine is ey'd
By him, I thus desire;
I shall, as gold, when he hath tried,
Come purer from the fire.