Have we sensed
the challenges he faced—brave Enoch,
when the world, youthy and green, had scent
of valleys, saw the distant hills
transmuted into gold-leaf splendor, tracing
the rich variety of life?
Enoch viewed exciting glints of it.
We do not know
how much he shunned the clamor of a vain and
sensuous world. We are sure he loved Methuselah,
loved all his family well.
Perhaps he talked with God in solitude, came
"close" to Him
in everything he did.
Could this "coming close," this "walk," be halted or disturbed
within a fledgling world?
And did petal or unfolding flower speak
of Life's unending tenderness?
Enoch must have worked with good.
Was he "in step" with innocence of heart
in beast and bird and man—when God took him?
Was there any place
in all his thinking for any tinge of gloom
when this transition came?
Suddenly,
like music of a voice, rising note on note,
each surpassing the melody
before, with nothing lost of
all its beauty,
Enoch walked with God without the flesh, but consummate, serene, exulting more
in Love's ascendancy
as triumph and the destiny of man.
