Watched in secret by our awful Sire;
Left to conquer, lest our spirits weaken,
And forget to wrestle and aspire,
Finding all things prompter than desire.
He hath hid the everlasting presence
Of his Godhead from the world he made,
Veiled his incommunicable essence
In thick darkness of thick clouds arrayed,
On our bold search flashing through the shade.
We are gods in veritable seeming