Where is the heart so rich that it can say

To those who mourn, "I will restore your heaven"?

[13]But these, with their own hands, laid up their treasure

[13]

Where never an emperor can break in and steal,

Treasure for those that loved them past all measure

In those high griefs that earth can never heal,

Proud griefs, that walk on earth, yet gaze above,

Knowing that sorrow is but remembered love.

V.

Love that still holds us with immortal power,

Yet cannot lift us to His realm of light;

Love that still shows us heaven for one brief hour

Only to daunt the heart with that sheer height;

Love that is made of loveliness entire

In form and thought and act; and still must shame us

Because we ever acknowledge and aspire,

And yet let slip the shining hands that claim us.

O, if this Love might cloak with rags His glory,

Laugh, eat and drink, and dwell with suffering men,

 Prev. P 18/149 next