University of Virginia Library

The Child sprang into life, and smote
At his first breath with bitter note
Against the bounds of self; and saw
The myriad world, informing awe,
So stern and solid-seeming roll
With anguish on his ignorant soul,
He feared and shrank. But, as a boy,
He leapt, with some quick sense of joy
And boisterous rude bravery,
His right of heaven-born liberty
And kingship o'er the world to prove;
And won. Him, thus self-centred, Love
Kissed on the lips, and lightly drew
As in a dream his whole soul through;
And left him nevermore the same,
But, smiting with his mighty flame,
Showed all creation, lower and higher,
Transparent with that inward fire.

And so on him, the man, there stole
The gracious mystery of the soul:
First formless, then with sudden force,
The vision of the universe
Unbodied, insubstantial, grown,
And on the fading image thrown,
A magic light, that came and went,
And now, where'er his looks were bent,
Leapt blinding with bright visions, now
Waxed dim and died, he knew not how.

But when the man was old, he said:
O mighty Father, who hast led
My feeble life with kindly hand
Through all this visionary land,—
Teacher and Guardian of my lot
Still most when most I knew it not,—
Now that, once more a little child,
I to thy Will am reconciled,
Nor e'er again of grief or fear
Can dream, since I behold thee near;—
Father, I pray thee, take once more
The soul that erst thy Sorrow bore
In pains of Love; and let me fall
Backward, with gladness at Thy call,
Unto thy Being's depth. Behold,
E'en now thine infinite arms enfold
And I escape not; for the air
Breathes with thy breath amid my hair;
The myriad links of force, that draw
My sinews with the central law,
Are still but thine; Thou from the sky
Drawest ever nigher and more nigh,
And down the avenues of sense
Glidest with ceaseless influence.
Nay, though the sense itself grow dead,
The fountain fails not at the head,
And in its secret source I feel
Thy spirit o'er my spirit steal
For ever closer, with the kiss
Of undiminished life and bliss.
Yea now I weary, let me rest
Calm in the haven of thy breast;
The world grows distant in mine ears;
Father, to thee my soul's star nears;
And Thou that gav'st me utterance since birth,
Take back my failing frame, O ancient mother Earth.