Human Life’s Mystery

We sow the glebe, we reap the corn,

We build the house where we may rest,

And then, at moments, suddenly,

We look up to the great wide sky,

Inquiring wherefore we were born…

For earnest or for jest?

The senses folding thick and dark

About the stifled soul within,

We guess diviner things beyond,

And yearn to them with yearning fond;

We strike out blindly to a mark

Believed in, but not seen.

We vibrate to the pant and thrill

Wherewith Eternity has curled

In serpent-twine about God’s seat;

While, freshening upward to His feet,

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