And Long We Try In

And Thou, Who Didst The Stars And Sunbeams Know, Self-school'd, Self-scann'd, Self-honour'd, Self-secure, Didst Tread On Earth Unguess'd At. Better So! All Pains The Immortal Spirit Must Endure, All Weakness Which Impairs, All Griefs Which Bow, Find Their Sole Speech In That Victorious Brow.

Below The Surface Stream, Shallow And Light, Of What We Say And Feel Below The Stream, As Light, Of What We Think We Feel, There Flows With Noiseless Current, Strong, Obscure And Deep, The Central Stream Of What We Feel Indeed.

Now The Great Winds Shoreward Blow Now The Salt Tides Seaward Flow Now The Wild White Horses Play Champ And Chafe And Toss In The Spray.

And As Long As The World Lasts, All Who Want To Make Progress In Righteousness Will Come To Israel For Inspiration, As To The People Who Have Had The Sense For Righteousness Most Glowing And Strongest; And In Hearing And Reading The Words Israel Has Uttered For Us, Carers For Conduct Will Find A Glow And A Force They Could Find Nowhere Else.

God's Wisdom And God's Goodness!--ah, But Fools Mis-define Thee, Till God Knows Them No More. Wisdom And Goodness They Are God!--what Schools Have Yet So Much As Heard This Simpler Lore. This No Saint Preaches, And This No Church Rules: 'tis In The Desert, Now And Heretofore.