They who from mountain peaks have gazed upon1
The wide illimitable heavens, have said,2
That still receding as they climbed, outspread,3
The blue vault deepens over them, and one4
By one drawn further back, each starry sun5
Shoots down a feebler splendour overhead.6
So, Saviour !  as our mounting spirits, led7
Along Faith’s living way to Thee, have won8
A nearer access, up the difficult track9
Still pressing, on that rarer atmosphere,10
When low beneath us flits the cloudy rack,11
We see Thee drawn within a widening sphere12
Of glory, from us further, further back,—13
Yet is it then because we are more near.14