There is a path no fowl hath ever known,
Which no voracious vulture's eye hath seen,
A hiding where no eagle yet hath flown,
A highway where no lion thought hath been,
A place where only harmony is found,
Where man, God's perfect image, ever dwells—
E'en like the unshod patriarch's holy ground—
Where love with peace discordant fear dispels.
Truth doth alone reveal this secret place,
Leading the earnest heart where it may learn
How man, idea, dwelleth face to face
With incorporeal God. There to discern
That in him, man, there dwells a perfect peace.
Uplifted consciousness Truth will sustain,
Till mortal sense of time and error cease,
And only qualities of God remain.
Onward then, go! Thou never art apart
From thy dear kin, ideas true of Mind,
Love, truth, joy, peace—brothers of quiet heart—
All that is pure and perfect, good and kind.
Press forward then and upward, out of night;
Loosen thy grasp on matter and the sod!
Yon veiled, yet glistening path waits in the light
For you, O man, thou son of perfect God.
