In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: 124

That which we dare invoke to bless;
        Our dearest faith; our ghastliest doubt;
        He, They, One, All; within, without;
The Power in darkness whom we guess;
I found Him not in world or sun,
        Or eagle’s wing, or insect’s eye;
        Nor thro’ the questions men may try,
The petty cobwebs we have spun:
If e’er when faith had fall’n asleep,
        I heard a voice, “Believe no more,”
        And heard an ever—breaking shore
That tumbled in the Godless deep,
A warmth within the breast would melt
        The freezing reason’s colder part,
        And like a man in wrath the heart
Stood up and answer’d, “I have felt.”
No, like a child in doubt and fear:
        But that blind clamour made me wise;
        Then was I as a child that cries,
But crying, knows his father near;
And what I am beheld again
        What is, and no man understands;
        And out of darkness came the hands
That reach thro’ nature, moulding men.
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