Ii. Theists

Who needs God most? That man whose pulses play With fullest life-blood; he whose foot dare climb To Joy’s high limit, solitude sublime Under a sky whose splendour sure must slay If Godless; he who owns the sovereign sway Of that small inner voice and still, what time His whole life urges toward one blissful crime, And Hell confuses Heaven, and night, the day. It is he whose faithfulness of love puts by Time’s anodyne, and that gross palliative, A Stoic pride, and bears all humanly; He whose soul grows one long desire to give Measureless gifts; ah! let him quickly die Unless he lift frail hands to God and live.