Page:Poems Blake.djvu/92

    And when, in grief and pain,
The anchors of its earthly trust are riven,
It looks beyond the pearly gates of heaven
    To find its rest again.

    For Thee, my God, alone,
The waiting soul with deathless longing burns,
And through the mist of distance fondly turns
    To where Thy light is shown.

    With Thee its pulses chime,
Like the deep swell of that eternal sea
Which pours the waters of Eternity
    Against the shores of Time.

    Less than Thyself, no aim
Can guide its wayward groping for the light,
Can quench its longing for the Infinite,
    Can win its purest fame,—

    For it is all Thine own;
The image of Thy majesty and love,
The essence of Thine altar fires above,
    Which burns for Thee alone,—

    And turns to seek Thy feet
Beyond all earthly joy or earthly strife,