[Written for the Sentinel]


Where'er we look with these our fleshly eyes,
Great walls deny our view: we look below,
And granite leagues forbid us farther go;
We look above, and worlds on worlds arise
To mock our wisdom from the quiet skies;
Our backward glances still impervious show
Blank walls of birth; and forward peerings grow
Reflective of the mist that forward lies.

Walls everywhere!—thick and obstructive all!
And yet, when like Bath-sheba's son we gaze
From out an understanding heart, we see
That God has placed a door in every wall
And given us, through all our groping days,
In fervent fellow love the golden key.

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