Until our hearts perceive the Giver of all good, The swiftly-flying bolt shot far from o’er the flood, They hold their coursers to be lost; and out of spite, They push their roadsters hastily, as thoughts invite. They hold their coursers to be lost; and all the while Like noble courser, roadster’s borne them many a mile. They now begin to wail, distress’d, and ask the way. They knock at ev’ry door they see, they beg, they pray: “The stealer of our courser was a little child. What horse is this, my master? Seems it not too wild?” 235 “O yes, a horse it is; but not the horse you want. Come to your senses, man; to some one else go chant.” The soul is void of patency and fellowship. Thou, like a wine-jar, full within, hast parched lip. How shouldst thou e’er distinguish red from green or brown, When these are all the colours unto thee well known? And when thy mind is dazed by colour’s magic round, All colour’s lost in one bright light diffused around. Those colours, too, all vanish from our view by night. We learn from this, that colour’s only seen through light. 240 The sense of colour-seeing’s not from light distinct. So, too, the sudden rainbow of our mind’s instinct. From sunlight, and the like, all outer colours rise; The inward tints that mark our minds, from God’s sunrise. The light that lights the eye’s the light that’s in the heart. Eye’s light is but derived from what illumes that part. The light that lights the heart’s the light that comes of God, Which lies beyond the reach of sense and reason, clod! By night we have no light; no colour can we see. Thus, light we learn by darkness, its converse. Agree! 245 A seeing of the light, perception is of tints; And these distinguished are through darkness’ gloomy hints. Our griefs and sorrows were by God first introduced, That joy to sense apparent thence should be reduced. Occult things, thus, by converse, grow apparent, all. Since God has no converse, apparent He can’t fall. Sight first saw light, and then the colours saw. From converse converse stands forth, as Frank from Negro. By converse of the light, distinguish we the light; A converse ’tis that converse shows unto our sight. 250 The light of God no converse has in being’s bound; By converse, then, man has not its distinction found. Our eyes cannot distinguish God, decidedly; Though He distinguish Moses and the Mount from thee.