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Lord,supposed to be in small caps font [sic] if thy world of beauty fails to rouse
 * My apathetic soul to faith in thee,
 * And I in swelling bud and blossom see

No sign of all their loveliness avows; If, set upon Life's consecrated brows,
 * Thy seal remains invisible to me,
 * And I, unmindful of the inner plea,

No other interest than self espouse,

Then stab my soul awake with conscious sin;
 * Pierce through my cold complacence, and reveal

The death to which indifference is akin,
 * Till, overwhelmed by shame and guilt, I feel

The smooth, self-righteous Pharisee within
 * Give place and, humbled, at thy threshold kneel.