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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


THE GLIMPSE by FREDERICK WILLIAM FABER

First Line: OUR MANY DEEDS, THE THOUGHTS THAT WE HAVE
Last Line: RECOILING ON THE HEART THAT WAS ITS HOME.

OUR many deeds, the thoughts that we have thought,
They go out from us, thronging every hour;
And in them all is folded up a power
That on the earth doth move them to and fro:
And mighty are the marvels they have wrought
In hearts we know not, and may never know.
Our actions travel and are veil'd: and yet
We sometimes catch a fearful glimpse of one,
When out of sight its march hath well-nigh gone
An unveil'd thing which we can ne'er forget!
All sins it gathers up into its course,
And they do grow with it, and are its force:
One day, with dizzy speed that thing shall come,
Recoiling on the heart that was its home.



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