Classic Poem

By the motes do we know where the sunbeam is slanting;
Through the hindering stones speaks the soul of the brook;
Past the rustle of leaves we press in to the stillness;
Through darkness and void to the Pleiads we look;
One bird-note at dawn with the night-silence o'er us,
Begins all the morning's munificent chorus.

Through sorrow come glimpses of infinite gladness;
Through grand discontent mounts the spirit of youth;
Loneliness foldeth a wonderful loving;
The breakers of Doubt lead the great tide of Truth;
And dread and grief-haunted the shadowy portal
That shuts from our vision the splendor immortal.