And I will make thy windows of Agates. Isaiah.
So sometimes comes to Soul and sense
The feeling which is evidence,
That very near about us lies
The realm of spiritual mysteries:
The mystery, dimly understood,
That love of God is love of Good;
That to be saved is only this,
Salvation from our selfishness;
That the dear Christ dwells not afar,
The king of some remoter star,
But here, amidst the poor and blind,
The bound and suffering of our kind;
In works we do, in prayers we pray,
Life of our life, he lives to-day.
