Seated in the holiest of shrines A Presence works unseen by mortal eye Unknown to mankind's outward-gazing view Whose limit is the reaches of the sky.
He who threads the fabric of our lives And moves in us as comrade, brother, seer, Beloved paves the Way through centuries And measures not the hour nor the year.
His purpose clear who shapes our destiny Even our rebellion understands, To free from bondage the imprisoned soul And lift us with supreme almighty hands
To heights divine and growth in rarefied air, Affranchised from the age of our despair.
Poems Undated (1727)
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