Faith
Oh Faith, that through our feeble youth,
Our faltering footsteps didst sustain,
With glimpses of receding Truth,
Now seen and now withdrawn again;
But always faint and white and far
As stars in summer midnights are.
Not Faith thou wert, if throughly clear,
Thou shon'st upon us, ever bright,
If thou like knowledge, steadfast, near,
Wert bathed in all-pervading Light,
And with high noon of perfect Day,
Illumin'dst our unerring way.
Not Faith thou wert!
Ah, shine not bright,
But as of old, o'erclouded still;
Let no broad noontides blind our sight.
With dawn, with eve, our spirits fill;
Not all thy hidden rays reveal—
To know is lower than to feel.