night.
161
XV.
O mankind's God! most silent and most lowly
Is wisdom's entrance to our hearts; with less
Of conscious power, than self-forgetfulness
And an enduring patience! Though most slowly,
Thou winn'st us by such lovely paths to know thee,
And the immortal life that from thee flows.
But if thy mild lure fail, come untold woes,
Doubt, pain, and learning's poor, convicted folly,
To make self bitter, and compel us forth.
We live not in a part; our prophecies
Are infant wailings—wailing of the earth!
Only the ocean matches the great skies—
Only the infinite of love and ruth
Receives the living infinite of truth.
Is wisdom's entrance to our hearts; with less
Of conscious power, than self-forgetfulness
And an enduring patience! Though most slowly,
Thou winn'st us by such lovely paths to know thee,
And the immortal life that from thee flows.
But if thy mild lure fail, come untold woes,
Doubt, pain, and learning's poor, convicted folly,
To make self bitter, and compel us forth.
We live not in a part; our prophecies
Are infant wailings—wailing of the earth!
Only the ocean matches the great skies—
Only the infinite of love and ruth
Receives the living infinite of truth.
