286. The Continuing City

GOD, who made man out of dust,

Willed him to be

Not to known ends, but to trust

His decree.

This is our city, a soul

Walled within clay;

Separate hearts of one whole,

Bound we obey.

All that He meant us to be,

Could we discern,—

Life had no meaning,—or we

Had not to learn.

Thou, beloved, doubt not the truth

Eyesight makes dim!

All life, to age from youth,

Brings us to Him:

Him Whom thou hast not seen,

Canst not yet know:

Human hearts stand between,

His to foreshow.

Couldst thou possess thine own,

That were the key;

He, to Whom hearts are known,

Keeps it from thee.

Thou all thy days must live,

Thyself the quest;

Plucking the heart to give

From thine own breast.

Till thou, from other eyes,

At kindred calls,

Seest thine own towers arise,

And thine own walls,—

Where, conquering the wide air,

Peopling its waste,

Citadels everywhere

Like stars stand based:

Losing thy soul, thy soul

Again to find;

Rendering toward that goal

Thy separate mind.