Page:Poems, Volume 1, Coates, 1916.djvu/89



LIFT my eyes, but I cannot see;

I stretch my arms and I cry to Thee,—

And still the darkness covers me.

Where art Thou? In the chill obscure

I wander lonely, and endure

A yearning only Thou canst cure!

Once—once, indeed, in every face

I seemed thy lineaments to trace

And looked in all to find thy grace:

I thought the thrush—sweet worshiper!—

From the minaret of the balsam-fir

Hymned forth thy praise, my soul to stir;

I thought the early roses came

To lisp in fragrant breaths thy name,

And teach my heart to do the same;

I thought the stars thy candles, Lord!—

I thought the skylark as he soared

Rose to thy throne and Thee adored!