The Black Christ & Other Poems/For Helen Keller
For Helen Keller
AGAINST our puny sound and sightIn vain the bells of Heaven ring,The Mystic Blossoms red and whiteMay not intrigue our visioning.
For lest we handle, lest we touch,Lest carnally our minds condone,Our clumsy credence may not clutchThe under or the overtone.
Her finer alchemy convertsThe clanging brass to golden-pealed,And for her sight the black earth spurtsHues never thought there unrevealed.