BURTON W. LOCKHART
From "THE RETROSPECT"
O BROTHERS! thro' how many lands
We've sought the Holy Grail!
Lo, here is truth! Lo, there she stands!—
Bow down, and cry, "All hail!"
Still she looks on us far withdrawn,
With stars and clouds bedight;
The vision of our spirit's dawn,
The watch-fire of our night.
Trust thy soul's highest vision—trust!
Think not to touch or taste:
Time's ancient mystery—poor dust!—
For thee will not make haste.
The noble still must seek the light;
The doctrinaire still raves;
But Faith holds fast, while the long night
Shines o'er our fathers' graves.