Thinkest thou that Christ did stand Shutting God from out the land? Hiding from His children's eyes Dayspring in the holy skies? Stood He not with loving eye On one side, to bring us nigh? "Doth this form offend you still? God is greater than you see; If you seek to do His will, He will lead you unto me." Then the tender Brother's grace Leads us to the Father's face. As His parting form withdrew, Burst His Spirit on the view. Form completest, radiant white, Sometimes must give way for light, When the eye, itself obscure, Stead of form is needing cure: Washed at morning's sunny brim From the mists that make it dim, Set thou up the form again, And its light will reach the brain. For the Truth is Form allowed, For the glory is the cloud; But the single eye alone Sees with light that is its own, From primeval fountain-head Flowing ere the sun was made; Such alone can be regaled With the Truth by form unveiled; To such an eye his form will be Gushing orb of glory free. [Sidenote: _Striving_.] Stroke on stroke! The frescoed plaster Clashes downward, fast and faster. Now the first stone disengages; Now a second that for ages Bested there as in a rock Yields to the repeated shock. Hark! I heard an outside stone Down the rough rock rumbling thrown! [Sidenote: _Longing_.] Haste thee, haste! I am athirst To behold young Morning, nurst In the lap of ancient Night, Growing visibly to light. There! thank God! a faint light-beam! There! God bless that little stream Of cool morning air that made A rippling on my burning head! [Sidenote: _Alive unto God._] Now! the stone is outward flung, And the Universe hath sprung Inward on my soul and brain! [Sidenote: _A New Life_.] I am living once again! Out of sorrow, out of strife, Spring aloft to higher life; Parted by no awful cleft From the life that I have left; Only I myself grown purer See its good so much the surer, See its ill with hopeful eye, Frown more seldom, oftener sigh. Dying truly is no loss, For to wings hath grown the cross. Dear the pain of giving up, If Christ enter in and sup. Joy to empty all the heart, That there may be room for Him! Faintness cometh, soon to part, For He fills me to the brim. I have all things now and more; All that I possessed before; In a calmer holier sense, Free from vanity's pretence; And a consciousness of bliss, Wholly mine, by being His. I am nearer to the end Whither all my longings tend. His love in all the bliss I had, Unknown, was that which made me glad; And will shine with glory more, In the forms it took before. [Sidenote: _Beauty returned with Truth._]