Classic Poem

But He, the only One of mortal birth
Who raised the Veil and saw the Face behind,
While yet He wander'd footsore on the earth,
Beheld His Father's Eyes, — that they were kind.
Here in the dark I grope, confused, purblind;
I have not seen the glory and the peace;
But on the darken'd mirror of the mind
Strange glimmers fall, and shake me till they cease —
Then, wondering, dazzled, on Thy name I call,
And, like a child, reach empty hands and moan,
And broken accents from my wild lips fall,
And I implore Thee in this human tone; —
If such as I can follow Him at all
Into Thy presence, 'tis by love alone.