previous next

[268] I trace your lines of argument;
     Your logic linked and strong
I weigh as one who dreads dissent,
     And fears a doubt as wrong.

But still my human hands are weak
     To hold your iron creeds:
Against the words ye bid me speak
     My heart within me pleads.

Who fathoms the Eternal Thought?
     Who talks of scheme and plan?
The Lord is God! He needeth not
     The poor device of man.

I walk with bare, hushed feet the ground
     Ye tread with boldness shod;
I dare not fix with mete and bound
     The love and power of God.

Ye praise His justice; even such
     His pitying love I deem:
Ye seek a king; I fain would touch
     The robe that hath no seam.

Ye see the curse which overbroods
     A world of pain and loss;
I hear our Lord's beatitudes
     And prayer upon the cross.

More than your schoolmen teach, within
     Myself, alas! I know:
Too dark ye cannot paint the sin,
     Too small the merit show.

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States License.

An XML version of this text is available for download, with the additional restriction that you offer Perseus any modifications you make. Perseus provides credit for all accepted changes, storing new additions in a versioning system.

hide Places (automatically extracted)

View a map of the most frequently mentioned places in this document.

Download Pleiades ancient places geospacial dataset for this text.

hide Display Preferences
Greek Display:
Arabic Display:
View by Default:
Browse Bar: