Classic Poem

On the dark waters of man's thought still gleams
Softly and silvernly, from night to night,
That starlight Legend, though its substance seems
Consuming in the melancholy light
It sheddeth. Father, do I see aright?
Is it a truth or most divine of dreams?
That He, Thy Child, walk'd once in raiment white
With mortal men, and mused by Syrian streams?
O Life that puts our noblest life to shame,
Was it a Star, or light to lead astray?
Thought's waves grow husht beneath that silvern flame,
Our hopes pursue it and our doubts obey;
And whether truth or phantom, it became
The sweetest ‘sphere that lights the World's black way.