Classic Poem

It would be sweet to leave the joys of earth,
And all the crowded ways that men invade,
To seek the depths of some mysterious glade,
Untrodden since the universe had birth;

To hear the wild birds fill with twittering mirth
The solemn elms, and in the twilight shade
Muse on the Power Supreme that all things made,
And with conflicting thoughts dispute His worth.

Yea, and to taunt this mighty Force unknown
With skeptic scorning and a cynic sneer,
Deeming His awful silence a disgrace;
To doubt, and challenge Him upon His throne,
In tones accusative to teach me fear,
And then to suddenly meet Him, face to face!