Page:Roden Noel - A Little Child's Monument - 1881.pdf/41

Brands with fierce fire upon the heedless heart
Her names of wonder! yea, I know ye now:
I bow my head in worship: yea, I feel
Your majesty of godlike Presences;
Stand here abashed, with mortal head bowed low
Before you, Angels, Demons of the Lord!

Yet with no rapture of strong youth's acclaim
I hail you, as a lowlier brother may
Hail a liege lord, a hero, or a king.
But I have come into your awful courts,
A poor blind broken pilgrim from afar,
Who faltering chances upon some august
Assembly of dread princes, and bows low,
Yet only craves to learn if haply he,
Who used to lead his poor blind footsteps on
With such clear-seeing love, a little child,
Who has been lost to him, alas! for long,
And whom he vainly seeks about the world,
About the dreary, barren world, be here?
But meeting no response to his demand,
He can but idly weep a moment, ere
He grope his weary way abroad again.

These are but void and ruined courts to me
Of faded splendour, unremembered Power!
I cannot see aright, I cannot feel.
And while men prate of knowing all the laws,