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 | The poetical works of Edward Rowland Sill |  |
If there is no key,
Why puzzle longer with the scribbled scroll
We blur our eyes on? But, O merciful God,
If our souls are immortal, O forgive
That we still creep on dusty hands and knees,
Face downward to the ground, when we might walk
Erect, and face the heavens, and see thy stars!
Why puzzle longer with the scribbled scroll
We blur our eyes on? But, O merciful God,
If our souls are immortal, O forgive
65
Face downward to the ground, when we might walk
Erect, and face the heavens, and see thy stars!
| The poetical works of Edward Rowland Sill | |