From: The Dial, Vol. II, No. III. (Jan. 1842)
Author:
Published: E. P. Peabody 1842 Boston
WHERE be these deeps to saint and prophet known
These deeps of love Divine and Infinite?
Wildered and sere over the waste I flit
Filling all nature with my constant moan;
Wherefore of all his sons do I alone
Seek for the Father’s face but never find,
Casting with tears my prayers upon the wind,
Sinful, remorseful, to God’s peace unknown?
Spare me, oh God! this fearful agony,
Give me the calm of souls regenerate,
Let me no more for thy dear presence wait,
But be each moment an Eternity.
As through the obedient stars, oh shine through me,
And in thy Life forever let me Be.
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