How shall we speak of gratitude Who lean to the call of the day's desire Impassioned, blind, in aspect crude We cannot fan the spark to fire.
A greater Love has moved our soul But small our means and mean our will To follow the path of an unseen goal Where life must pause and mind must still
And body bear descending force Atomic in lethargic cell, Annihilating mind's recourse To reason where it lives to dwell.
Yet is every moment tinged with light And Grace comes streaming softly down, Through the tangled skeins of earthly plight The veiled Creator extends the crown.
For now no longer can we hide Or set our sails towards safer shores Or hurling through the skies to ride Away from God's great golden doors
That beckon to our errant feet And call our hearts with angel-song. We must shed the ego Self to meet Undo the false, redress the wrong
Of insularity and greed, Tend the temple night and day In the inner garden plant the seed Of consecration, seek the Way.
Yet all proceeds on an ancient plan By Him who is our blood and breath, Transforming earth, transcending man Annulling by His life our death.
Poems Undated (1727)
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