Sonnet.
The whole day long the bright stars shine and burn,1
And yet I see them not.—Thus, oh, my God,2
Thou shinest on my soul, and I, dull clod3
Of earth, from Thine undying light still turn.4
All night fresh dews from Heaven fill mine urn :5
Pure dews of peace and prayer and faith, which I6
Forget until the sun has drunk them dry.7
For one pure drop in vain my soul doth yearn,8
Athirst and faint with sin and arid doubt.9
And all my life, from birth until the grave,10
Within my heart a secret world I have,11
And as I am, so is it foul or fair.12
Alas ! why do I look so little there ?13
Alas ! why do I look so much without ?14