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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


BEHIND THE VEIL by LEWIS MORRIS (1833-1907)

First Line: I PACED ALONG
Last Line: UNKNOWN, INEFFABLE, DIVINE!

I PACED along
The dim cathedral wrapped in reverend gloom;
I heard the sweet child's song
Spring upwards like a fountain; and the boom
Of the tempestuous organ-music swell;
The hushed low voices and the silvery bell;
The incense-laden air; the kneeling throng;
I knew them all, and seemed to hear the cry
Of countless myriads, rising deep and strong, --
Help us! we faint, we die.
Our knees are weak, our eyes are blind;
We seek what we shall never find.
Show but Thy face, and we are Thine,
Unknown, Ineffable, Divine!
I heard the loud
Muezzin from the slender minaret call
"To prayer, To prayer;" and lo! the busy crowd,
Merchant and prince and water-carrier, all
Turned from the world, and, rapt in worship, knelt,
Facing the holy city; and I felt
That from those myriads kneeling, prostrate, bowed,
A low moan rises to the throne on high, --
Not shut out quite by error's thickest cloud, --
Help us! we faint, we die.
Our knees are weak, our eyes are blind;
We seek what we shall never find.
Show but Thy face, and we are Thine,
Unknown, Ineffable, Divine.
I stood before
The glaring temples on the burning plain;
I heard the hideous roar
Rise to the stars to drown the shrieks of pain,
What time the murderous idol swept along.
I listened to the innocent, mystic song,
Breathed to the jewelled Lotus evermore,
In the elder lands, through the ages, like a sigh,
And heard in low, sweet chant, and hateful roar, --
Help us! we faint, we die.
Our knees are weak, our eyes are blind;
We seek what we shall never find.
Show but Thy face, and we are Thine,
Unknown, Ineffable, Divine!
Ay: everywhere
Echoes the same exceeding bitter cry.
Yet can the Father bear
To hide His presence from the children's eye;
Lets loose on good and bad the plague and sword;
And though wrong triumph, answers not a word?
Only deep down in the heart doth He declare
His constant presence; there, though the outward sky
Be darkened, shines a little speck of fair, --
A light which cannot die.
Though knees be weak, and eyes be blind;
Though we may seek, and never find;
Here doth His hidden glory shine,
Unknown, Ineffable, Divine!



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