They say that *** lives very high;
But if you look above the pines
You cannot see our ***; and why?
And if you dig down in the mines,
You never see Him in the gold,
Though from Him all that’s glory shines.
*** is so good, He wears a fold
Of heaven and earth across His face,
Like secrets kept, for love, untold.
But still I feel that His embrace
Slides down by thrills, through all things made,
Through sight and sound of every place;
As if my tender mother laid
On my shut lids her kisses’ pressure,
Half waking me at night, and said,
“Who kissed you through the dark, dear guesser?”
