Pain of too poignant beauty fills the heart Seeing rich dreams through some rare sunset drift, Or when on lawns the summer shadows shift In soft designs beyond Man's clumsy art To emulate. Quick tears may almost start When the anointed stars to heaven uplift Their voiceless adoration, and a rift Seems shining in the night where pale clouds part. In hours like these what vast benevolence Breathes through the world! O God beyond illusion, Then we divine thou knowest our dark confusion, With fervent answers soothing every sense; And yet we feel—what pain—in the intense Desire for thee to end thy long seclusion! |