Page:Roden Noel - A Little Child's Monument - 1881.pdf/41

 Brands with fierce fire upon the heedless heart Her names of wonder! yea, I know ye now: I bow my head in worship: yea, I feel Your majesty of godlike Presences; Stand here abashed, with mortal head bowed low Before you, Angels, Demons of the Lord!

Yet with no rapture of strong youth's acclaim I hail you, as a lowlier brother may Hail a liege lord, a hero, or a king. But I have come into your awful courts, A poor blind broken pilgrim from afar, Who faltering chances upon some august Assembly of dread princes, and bows low, Yet only craves to learn if haply he, Who used to lead his poor blind footsteps on With such clear-seeing love, a little child, Who has been lost to him, alas! for long, And whom he vainly seeks about the world, About the dreary, barren world, be here? But meeting no response to his demand, He can but idly weep a moment, ere He grope his weary way abroad again.

These are but void and ruined courts to me Of faded splendour, unremembered Power! I cannot see aright, I cannot feel. And while men prate of knowing all the laws,