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J. P. RITCHIE.
275
But oh, to be in from the open!
Where the limitless, unconfined
Immensities of time and space,
O'erwhelm the human mind;
As Heaven's host we scan,
Lord, what is man?—
The drudge of a day
In his house of clay—
A mite of earth's crust
Who returns to his dust!
Oh! well to be in from the open
Of the vastitudes profound,—
The terrors of eternities
In which man's thoughts are drowned;
With the Witness that tells
That the pure heart dwells
In the House of the Lord even here,
With the Word Divine that is near,
Giving power to descry
The fair mansions on high,
Where at home we shall be
With God's whole family,
To behold all His grace
In the Son of Man's face.
J. P. Ritchie.
