Classic Poem

VIII

He, prescient of regenerate birth,
The hope and faith inspired by Thee;
Who delved the secrets of the earth,
Who portioned out infinity;
Who felt within a conscious soul
That widening in process grew,
Till owned, while opening on the whole,
Thy Spirit prompted all he knew.

IX

Thou One alone! whose altar is
The universe, whom all have sought;
The humble from their lowliness,
The sophist on the wings of thought;
Thou Mover of majestic heaven,
Creator of time, life, and space,
Whose being by thyself is given,
Infinity thy dwelling-place;

X

Thou Power, of whom we nothing know,
But feel that thou art near,
Pervading round, above, below,
Thy lowliest creature hear;
My mortal bed beneath me lies,
I must for death prepare;
Shut out from me the joyous skies,
Unconscious Thou art there.

XI

Duration measureless rolled on,
When I was not; time still shall be:
The stars eternally have shone,
They drew their life from Thee.
Gazing on their bright foreheads, I
Feel that my spirit there shall flee;
That fires ethereal could not die,
So they were lighted, Lord, from thee!

XII

But if, 'mid yon ethereal host,
Sand-grains upon the ocean's shore,
Worlds, systems, are as atoms lost,
Dare man his nothingness deplore? —
The moth was dazzled by the rays
Till, blinded, from the darkening night,
It turned from them its wildered gaze
To pray to Thee alone for light.

XIII

Even now a calmer, holier feeling
Within my spirit grows;
A grateful influence o'er me stealing,
The trust and the repose:
I value not life's pageants known,
Its triumphs or its fame,
Upon the brass, or scroll, or stone,
I sigh not for a name.

XIV

Such visions from my soul are fled;
A nobler faith and trust is mine,
Rekindling, as from ashes dead
An aspiration more divine;
To flee from life and soar to skies
Whose isles of light Thyself declare;
The doubt and chill from earth that rise
Forgot in deathless being there.