THE search of man for God, the mightiest theme
That ever can his loftiest thought engage!
Is his clear vision but an idle dream,
The mind's mirage to lure the doubting sage
With phantom waters that can not a**uage
His thirst devine, or are the spires that gleam
Above Heaven's battlements from age to age
To eyes unsealed, as real as they seem?
To him who sees them not, they are not; clod
Of crudest clay by spirit uninformed,
His body, breath and reason have their day
And into nothingness would pa** away,
But that, by grace regenerate and warmed
To a new being, he may grope toward God.