Page:The ascent of man by Blind, Mathilde.djvu/88

 "On my wearying pilgrimage blindly I started To seek thee, oh Love, in high places and low, And instead of the glories for ever departed,

"To warm my starved life in thy mightier glow. For I deemed thee a Presence ringed round with all splendour, With a sceptre in hand and a crown on thy brow;

"And, behold, thou art helpless—most helpless to tender Thy service to others, who needest their care. Yea, now that I find thee a weak child slender,

"Exposed to the blast of the merciless air, Like a lamb that is shorn, like a leaf that is shaken, What, Love, now is left but to die in despair?