Pant when I read of thy consummate power.
And burn to see thy calm pure truths out-flash
The brightest gleams of earth's philosophy?
Do I not shake to hear aught question thee?
If I am erring save me, madden me,
Take from me powers and pleasures, let me die
Ages, so I see thee! I am knit round
As with a charm by sin and lust and pride.
Yet though my wandering dreams have seen all shapes
Of strange delight, oft have I stood by thee—