In finite sense, which views the starry dome above
With mortal vision, human thought cannot conceive
Of aught that is beyond.
A finite sense has circumscribed itself
And all that comes within its misty view,
And through the vast domains of space takes timid wing,
As e'en the tender nestling from some low-bent bough.
Yet, as the bonds of sense material are burst
And understanding of God's presence takes their place.
We know but Spirit, here as there: and from the stars
There clearly gleams the light of Truth and, fall'n the scales
From off our eyes, we see the light that never fails.
Poems
[Written for the Journal]
VISION
From the January 1923 issue of The Christian Science Journal
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