thirty-five.
179
Though lone those mountains seem, and cold,
To such as know not of her Guide,
He gently leads to Love's warm fold;
She sees them from their heaven-lit side.
To such as know not of her Guide,
He gently leads to Love's warm fold;
She sees them from their heaven-lit side.
And of the way that lies between,
The mystery is the loveliest thing.
All yet a miracle has been,
And life shall greater wonders bring.
The mystery is the loveliest thing.
All yet a miracle has been,
And life shall greater wonders bring.
The soul to God's heart moving on,
Owns but the Infinite for home;
Whatever with the past has gone,
The best is always yet to come.
Owns but the Infinite for home;
Whatever with the past has gone,
The best is always yet to come.
'T will not be growing old, to feel
The spirit, like a child, led on
By unseen presences, that steal
For earth the light of heavenly dawn.
The spirit, like a child, led on
By unseen presences, that steal
For earth the light of heavenly dawn.
'T will not be terrible to bear
Of inward pain the heaviest blow,
Since thus the rock is smitten, where
Fountains of strength perennial flow.
Of inward pain the heaviest blow,
Since thus the rock is smitten, where
Fountains of strength perennial flow.
