Jephthah and Other Mysteries

LYRICAL AND DRAMATIC. 141 The wall that ever girds Earth’s thought with brass Is all a silver path my feet beneath, And o’er its level sward Of sea-reflecting white flowers and fresh grass I walk. Man’s darkness is a leathern sheath, Myself the sun-bright sword ! I have no fear, nor doubt, nor sorrow now, For I give Self to God—I give my best Of soul and blood and brain To my poor Art—there comes to me somehow This fact: Man’s work is God made manifest; Life is all Peace again. And Dreams are beyond life. Their wider scope, Limitless Empire o’er the world of thought, Help my desires to press Beyond all stars toward God and Heaven and Hope; And in the world-amazing chase is wrought Somehow—all Happiness.