We see the wild-faced moon in skies far-off,
The bare and weary light of undimmed sun,
And Caesar’s glittering eagles leading on
The thoughtless people, who, with jeer and scoff,
An abject God in proud derision scorn,
Alike from barren shade and living presence turn.
O weary thought! hath earth lost sight of Him?
And do her children with dulled vision grope,
With fain-believing heart and doubting hope,
His cross a parable with meaning dim?