 | Stones from The Quarry |  |
TO ------.
Oh could I see thy face again! to gazeOn which was cordial and restorative;
As if it said “Fret not thy soul, nor strive
After a vain thing in the world's crooked ways;”
As if of Peace the very resting-place,
Peace in degrees not, but superlative;
At peace with self, at peace with all who live,
With God; His very Peace thy very face!
Oh could I hear thy voice again! Soft, low,
Yet steadfast, with a very inwardness,
As thy sweet soul with every word did go,
With power who heard thee, as thyself, to bless.
Vain thought! Yet what thyself, if such and so,
Thy memory, poor lay-figure! we thus dress!
| Stones from The Quarry | |