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.