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.