I sullenly protested when we moved Away from all familiar things I loved To spaces where a child might run and play In unconfined communion with the day.
We look upon the present, hug our lot Of pleasure and of pain, we plan, we plot And rarely do we look within for cause Of things, divine the sealed and secret laws
That move the mechanisms of our fate, Or seek the wisdom of the realised great. We live content within a narrow sphere, The spirit's voice we can no longer hear
Yet all our trials attest to otherness, Of beings in our midst, of hands that bless, A force of God that calls our hearts to bliss And asks that we awaken lest we miss
The miracle for which the earth prepares, When truth descends destroying falsehood's lairs. For man is a transitional attempt Evolving towards a dream the Lord has dreamt,
A life divine upon this earthly soil, The meaning of the Godhead's ageless toil, To tear the veil that hides from us his face, Transform our lives to beauty and to grace.
Poems Undated (1727)
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