Half in a fear begotten not of love,
Half in cold doubt, seeking all things to prove,
To none hold fast, with whom divinest hope
Holds naught more excellent than earth’s to-days;
For whom in vain doth Israel’s lily bloom,
With its white sunshine lighting hours of gloom,
Shining 'mid thorns that seek to crush its grace—
So dimming the broad rays of love divine
With earthly shadow cast on earthly things
That folded keep their gift of heavenly wings,