camille.
115
In the great tempest-call,
And greater silence deep'ning through it all,
Refuses still, refuses to despair.
And greater silence deep'ning through it all,
Refuses still, refuses to despair.
Some further end—whence thou refitt'st with aim
Bewildered souls perhaps—? Some breath in me,
By thee, the purest, found devoid of blame,
Fit for large teaching—? Look, I cannot see,
I can but feel!—Far off,
Life seethes and frets, and from its shame and scoff,
I take my broken crystal up to Thee.
Bewildered souls perhaps—? Some breath in me,
By thee, the purest, found devoid of blame,
Fit for large teaching—? Look, I cannot see,
I can but feel!—Far off,
Life seethes and frets, and from its shame and scoff,
I take my broken crystal up to Thee.
