Page:Thirty poems (IA thirtypoems00bryarich).pdf/82

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POEMS.
Yet upon the mist before us fix thine eyes with closer view;See, beneath its sullen skirts, the rosy morning glimmers through.One whose fect the thorns have wounded passed that barrier and came back,With a glory on His footsteps lighting yet the dreary track.Boldly enter where He entered; all that seems, but darkness here,When thou hast passed beyond it, haply shall be crystal-clear.Viewed from that serener realm, the walks of human life may lie,Like the page of some familiar volume, open to thine eye;Haply, from the overhanging shadow, thou may'st stretch an unseen hand,To support the wavering steps that print with blood the rugged land.Haply, leaning o'er the pilgrim, all unweeting thou art near,
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