Thou knowest, eyelids, raised not always up

Where the lark finds her deep nest in the grass

Back to Thee in continuous aspiration!

Thou knowest, though Thy universe is broad,

With help for sins and holy perfectings

God,ｈｔtｐ://wｗｗ.９9lｉb.neｔ God!

We name our souls, self-spoilt!—by that strong passion

Expiring in the woods—that care for none

Themselves have called around them, call them back,

Weak, sad, confidingly—

As ours, o’er many a九_九_藏_书_网 tear!

Unless they travel upward to the throne

Unto Thy face his full ecstatic gazing,

God, God!

Two little tears suffice to cover all:

The greatest speed of all these souls of men

O blissful Mouth which breathed t九九藏书网he mournful breath

Of those delightsome flowers they die upon.

Cold with the earth’s last dew. Yea, very vain

Thou knowest, Thou, who art so prodigal

Where sittest THOU, the satisfying ONE,

Of beauty, we are oft but stricken deer

With a child’s voice I cry,

For all requirements—while the archangel, raising

Which paled Thee once with sighs,—by that strong d

九-九-藏-书-网

eath

Forgets the rush and rapture of his wings.

Which made Thee once unbreathing—from the wrack

From city-pavement to untrodden sward,

Unto Thy love (as none of ours are), droop

For here they travel vainly,—vainly pass

For here, O Lord,