 | The Poetical Works of Frances Ridley Havergal |  |
Enigma No. 18.
Ye have seen me in the skies,
Yet beneath the ground I rise;
Sometimes far above your head,
Sometimes deep below your tread.
Yet beneath the ground I rise;
Sometimes far above your head,
Sometimes deep below your tread.
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Where the forest boughs entwine,
Baffling still the gay sunshine;
Gaze aloft, and you will see
In myself their tracery.
Baffling still the gay sunshine;
Gaze aloft, and you will see
In myself their tracery.
Laughing eye and dimpling smile
May be even me awhile;
Playful words, like javelins thrown,
As myself you often own.
May be even me awhile;
Playful words, like javelins thrown,
As myself you often own.
Many a sunny stream ye trace,
Rippling in my calm embrace;
Still I watch the secret shrine
Of the rich and ruddy wine.
Rippling in my calm embrace;
Still I watch the secret shrine
Of the rich and ruddy wine.
Nave, and choir, and aisle, I trow,
All to me their glories owe;
Even a seraph form by me,
Greater, fairer yet may be.
All to me their glories owe;
Even a seraph form by me,
Greater, fairer yet may be.
Many a loved one may be laid
In my sadly solemn shade;
On your brow I now may dwell,
While your lips my name will tell.
In my sadly solemn shade;
On your brow I now may dwell,
While your lips my name will tell.
| The Poetical Works of Frances Ridley Havergal | |