Classic Poem

" He seemed to ponder, but he answered not,
Or only murmured in an undertone,
As if unwittingly he had forgot
He was not quite alone.

" " Happy, thrice happy, but whose hearts receive
This simple faith in Him whom men reviled
And crucified. Would I, too, could believe,
Even as a little child."

" And gazing earnestly toward the sky,
As he were questioning the realms of space,
He sighed: " A taint of infidelity
Is in my blood and race."

" And then he turned and said, as if ashamed
Of having shown such weakness: " Nay, in sooth
I may be wrong, but have sincerely aimed
To find and know the truth."

" He was above my little sphere so far,
That, looking up to him, my eyes grew dim;
I was a wayside blossom, he a star;
And yet I pitied him.

" I pitied him, that seeing, he was blind,
That, being free, was bound with many a thrall;
That, having gracious gifts of heart and mind.
Yet lacked the best of all.