 | The walk with God |  |
107
THE CLOSED GENTIAN
Thou promise of a glory unfulfilled,
Enclosed as if some frost thy heart had chilled;
Thy blue is stolen from the vault above;
Surely, the golden secret of thy love
Is star-distilled, too precious for revealing
For mean delight's unconsecrated feeling.
Enclosed as if some frost thy heart had chilled;
Thy blue is stolen from the vault above;
Surely, the golden secret of thy love
Is star-distilled, too precious for revealing
For mean delight's unconsecrated feeling.
In my life's garden grow such flowers as these,
Unfolding not to sunshine nor to breeze,
Their outer semblance to the world fair shown,
Their inner beauty seen of God alone.
Unfolding not to sunshine nor to breeze,
Their outer semblance to the world fair shown,
Their inner beauty seen of God alone.
| The walk with God | |