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1893
THY face is far from this our war, | |
| Our call and counter-cry, | |
| I shall not find Thee quick and kind, | |
| Nor know Thee till I die. | |
| Enough for me in dreams to see | 5 |
| And touch Thy garments’ hem: | |
| Thy feet have trod so near to God | |
| I may not follow them! | |
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| Through wantonness if men profess | |
| They weary of Thy parts, | 10 |
| E’en let them die at blasphemy | |
| And perish with their arts; | |
| But we that love, but we that prove | |
| Thine excellence august, | |
| While we adore, discover more | 15 |
| Thee perfect, wise, and just. | |
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| Since spoken word Man’s Spirit stirred | |
| Beyond his belly-need, | |
| What is is Thine of fair design | |
| In Thought and Craft and Deed. | 20 |
| Each stroke aright of toil and fight, | |
| That was and that shall be, | |
| And hope too high wherefore we die, | |
| Has birth and worth in Thee. | |
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| Who holds by Thee hath Heaven in fee | 25 |
| To gild his dross thereby, | |
| And knowledge sure that he endure | |
| A child until he die— | |
| For to make plain that man’s disdain | |
| Is but new Beauty’s birth— | 30 |
| For to possess in singleness | |
| The joy of all the earth. | |
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| As Thou didst teach all lovers speech | |
| And Life all mystery, | |
| So shalt Thou rule by every school | 35 |
| Till life and longing die, | |
| Who wast or yet the Lights were set, | |
| A whisper in the Void, | |
| Who shalt be sung through planets young | |
| When this is clean destroyed. | 40 |
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| Beyond the bounds our staring rounds, | |
| Across the pressing dark, | |
| The children wise of outer skies | |
| Look hitherward and mark | |
| A light that shifts, a glare that drifts, | 45 |
| Rekindling thus and thus, | |
| Not all forlorn, for Thou hast borne | |
| Strange tales to them of us. | |
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| Time hath no tide but must abide | |
| The servant of Thy will; | 50 |
| Tide hath no time, for to Thy rhyme | |
| The ranging stars stand still— | |
| Regent of spheres that lock our fears | |
| Our hopes invisible, | |
| Oh ’t was certes at Thy decrees | 55 |
| We fashioned Heaven and Hell! | |
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| Pure Wisdom hath no certain path | |
| That lacks thy morning-eyne, | |
| And Captains bold by Thee controlled | |
| Most like to Gods design. | 60 |
| Thou art the Voice to kingly boys | |
| To lift them through the fight, | |
| And Comfortress of Unsuccess, | |
| To give the Dead good-night. | |
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| A veil to draw ’twixt God His Law | 65 |
| And Man’s infirmity, | |
| A shadow kind to dumb and blind | |
| The shambles where we die; | |
| A rule to trick th’ arithmetic, | |
| Too base, of leaguing odds— | 70 |
| The spur of trust, the curb of lust, | |
| Thou handmaid of the Gods! | |
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| O Charity, all patiently | |
| Abiding wrack and scaith! | |
| O Faith, that meets ten thousand cheats | 75 |
| Yet drops no jot of faith! | |
| Devil and brute Thou dost transmute | |
| To higher, lordlier show, | |
| Who art in sooth that lovely Truth | |
| The careless angels know! | 80 |
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| Thy face is far from this our war, | |
| Our call and counter-cry, | |
| I may not find Thee quick and kind, | |
| Nor know Thee till I die. | |
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| Yet may I look with heart unshook | 85 |
| On blow brought home or missed— | |
| Yet may I hear with equal ear | |
| The clarions down the List; | |
| Yet set my lance above mischance | |
| And ride the barriere— | 90 |
| Oh, hit or miss, how little ’t is, | |
| My Lady is not there! | |
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