All our light mockeries Have ever paled before Thy white desire, Oh, keeper of the keys Of earth and water, air and fire, Render of all the world's vain panoplies To find beneath the true heart in the liar! Consorter with the base, The outcast, thieves and harlots, fools and knaves,— Pure well of mighty grace And mercy on the sinners and the slaves,— Strong warrior and strong runner of the race, Challenging even Death among his graves! Thy creeds outwear their zest. Now it is dogma and not love they mete. All we can do is jest And toss Thy name for cursing in the street, And all Thy nations shudder in unrest, And Thy wild truth fares far with blood-stained feet. Smug speech of Thee is heard, As "This is He!" or "Nay! This likelier one." But not Thy word—Thy word— Thy vast example, that too blinding sun, Whereby these nineteen centuries are stirred Darkly and deep with knowledge just begun. Thy patience still is great, Who stirredst the waters never to be stilled. Through Thee we recreate This world, until those things so strongly willed In Thy vast heart bring forth the true estate Of heart and soul, with all Thine hopes fulfilled. And if men say "How prove That life, that self, through all of history's lies?" Supreme Idea of Love And Service, where before did Man devise Such clean, clear courage, half a world to move, Brooding no metaphysic Paradise? Gautama, Socrates, All the "seditious" leaders of all ages Pale by Thy side. All these Are gathered and transfigured in Thy pages. Read in the spirit and the mind agrees In awe and light and vision that presages. Twist Thee and turn they will To all interpretations weak or base. Thy metaphors are still Nests of sharp swords for fools in every place, And Thine interpreters are quick to kill Thy truth, that binds the depths and heights of Space. This—with a vision dim,— Eyes that can arrogate no mystic chrism,— This do I think of Him, The valiant spirit's one and sure baptism, The white light of the world wherein there swim All the strange hues refracted from Life's prism. So far the boundaries gleam Of Space—or Heaven—where Man shall overtake Him, And this stupendous dream Engulf Man's thought and into glory wake him, I cease, lest I blaspheme A power Man knows not, that doth rend and shake him! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: THE JURY DELIBERATES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS FLORENCE VANE by PHILIP PENDLETON COOKE NEEDLESS FEAR by EMILY DICKINSON THE SEEDLING by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE SOUND OF THE TREES by ROBERT FROST EPITAPH FOR ONE WHO WOULD NOT BE BURIED IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY by ALEXANDER POPE ON THE DEATHS OF THOMAS CARLYLE AND GEORGE ELIOT by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE |