thought that lurks in all delight—
   The thought of thee—and in the blue Heaven’s height,
And in the sweetest passage of a song.

Oh, just beyond the fairest thoughts that throng
   This breast, the thought of thee waits, hidden yet bright;
   But it must never, never come in sight;
I must stop short of thee the whole day long.

But when sleep comes to close each difficult day,
   When night gives pause to the long watch I keep,
      And all my bonds I needs must loose apart,

Must doff my will as raiment laid away,—
   With the first dream that comes with the first sleep
      I run, I run, I am gathered to thy heart.

VENI CREATOR

So humble things Thou hast borne for us, O God,
Left’st Thou a path of lowliness untrod?
Yes, one, till now; another Olive-Garden.
For we endure the tender pain of pardon,—
One with another we forbear.  Give heed,
Look at the mournful world Thou hast decreed.
The time has come.  At last we hapless men
Know all our haplessness all through.  Come, then,
Endure undreamed humility: Lord of Heaven,
Come to our ignorant hearts and be forgiven.

***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS***