Wild honey from various thyme :: :: University of Virginia Library

O Thou who see'st, but lift me to Thy ken,
Let me but look an instant with Thy sight
O'er Thy marred world, the drift and din of men,
And all Thy glory troubled in its light!
Let me but look, as Thou, with Love's own hate,
Let me but feel Thy pain; let me but know
How, at Thy will, Thou can'st in me create
A world as fair as Eden in its blow,
As summer to Thy gaze....Oh, to redeem
Thy vision from its sorrow, give Thee space,
As where unfolded roses breathe and fill
Full of an eager quietness; a place
Where Thou may'st watch the working of Thy dream,
And every change a motion of Thy will!