The collected poems of Arthur Edward Waite | ||
XX
THE CREDO
Those truths which most call for expression are those also which exceed it.
Inexpressible
Now, let us here in secret, as if drawnTogether in some holy place apart
To welcome in the day-star ere it dawn,
Declare the hidden matter—heart to heart:
Nay, it eludes the thought, however high,
And words still fail him who would testify.
Master, we came from Thee—Thou knowest when—
And unto Thee return; the time and mode
Are in Thy hands. There is a reason why,
And this we feel. Keep clear, we pray, the road;
Apart from Thee nothing can satisfy:
Lead, and still lead the trembling hearts of men.
This is our faith in Thee, our strong defence:
Do Thou fulfil it in experience!
And unto Thee return; the time and mode
Are in Thy hands. There is a reason why,
And this we feel. Keep clear, we pray, the road;
Apart from Thee nothing can satisfy:
Lead, and still lead the trembling hearts of men.
This is our faith in Thee, our strong defence:
Do Thou fulfil it in experience!
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The collected poems of Arthur Edward Waite | ||