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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=421247" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Twenty-Fourth Sunday After Trinity</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Why should we faint and fear to live alone,<br> Since all alone, so Heaven has willed, we die,<br>Nor e'en the tenderest heart, and next our own,<br> Knows half the reasons why we smile and sigh?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Each in his hidden sphere of joy or woe<br> Our hermit spirits dwell, and range apart,<br>Our eyes see all around in gloom or glow -<br> Hues of their own, fresh borrowed from the heart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And well it is for us our GOD should feel<br> Alone our secret throbbings: so our prayer<br>May readier spring to Heaven, nor spend its zeal<br> On cloud-born idols of this lower air.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For if one heart in perfect sympathy<br> Beat with another, answering love for love,<br>Weak mortals, all entranced, on earth would lie,<br> Nor listen for those purer strains above.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Or what if Heaven for once its searching light<br> Lent to some partial eye, disclosing all<br>The rude bad thoughts, that in our bosom's night<br> Wander at large, nor heed Love's gentle thrall?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Who would not shun the dreary uncouth place?<br> As if, fond leaning where her infant slept,<br>A mother's arm a serpent should embrace:<br> So might we friendless live, and die unwept.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then keep the softening veil in mercy drawn,<br> Thou who canst love us, thro' Thou read us true;<br>As on the bosom of th' aerial lawn<br> Melts in dim haze each coarse ungentle hue.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So too may soothing Hope Thy heave enjoy<br> Sweet visions of long-severed hearts to frame:<br>Though absence may impair, or cares annoy,<br> Some constant mind may draw us still the same.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We in dark dreams are tossing to and fro,<br> Pine with regret, or sicken with despair,<br>The while she bathes us in her own chaste glow,<br> And with our memory wings her own fond prayer.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O bliss of child-like innocence, and love<br> Tried to old age! creative power to win,<br>And raise new worlds, where happy fancies rove,<br> Forgetting quite this grosser world of sin.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bright are their dreams, because their thoughts are clear,<br> Their memory cheering: but th' earth-stained spright,<br>Whose wakeful musings are of guilt and fear,<br> Must hover nearer earth, and less in light.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Farewell, for her, th' ideal scenes so fair -<br> Yet not farewell her hope, since thou hast deigned,<br>Creator of all hearts! to own and share<br> The woe of what Thou mad'st, and we have stained.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thou knowst our bitterness--our joys are Thine -<br> No stranger Thou to all our wanderings wild:<br>Nor could we bear to think, how every line<br> Of us, Thy darkened likeness and defiled,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Stands in full sunshine of Thy piercing eye,<br> But that Thou call'st us Brethren: sweet repose<br>Is in that word--the LORD who dwells on high<br> Knows all, yet loves us better than He knows.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Keble">John Keble</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=421247" data-title="Twenty-Fourth Sunday After Trinity de John Keble" data-description="Why should we faint and fear to live alone,
 Since all alone, so Heaven has willed, we die,
Nor e'en the tenderest heart, and next our own,
 Knows half the reasons why we smile and sigh?

Each in his hidden sphere of joy or woe
 Our hermit spirits..."></div>
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