Classic Poem

He creeps from out a darkened place
To gaze at God's great Sun;
Its glory sweeps across his face,
And all that he has done,

Or failed to do, and numbered days,
And living things, and dead,
Are naught to him, so clear the blaze
That fills the arch o'erhead.

His life becomes a singing chord,
In light his senses swim;
He thinks creation's silent Lord
Is flashing signs to him.

He creeps from out a darkened place
To gaze at God's great Sun;
Its glory sweeps across his face,
And all that he has done,

Or failed to do, and numbered days,
And living things, and dead,
Are naught to him, so clear the blaze
That fills the arch o'erhead.

His life becomes a singing chord,
In light his senses swim;
He thinks creation's silent Lord
Is flashing signs to him.