We know that men will treat with derision
Whatever they cannot understand,
At goodness and truth and beauty's vision
Will shut their eyes and murmur and howl at it;
And must the dog, too, snarl and growl at it?

But ah, with the best will, I feel already,
No peace will well up in me, clear and steady.
But why must hope so soon deceive us,
And the dried-up stream in fever leave us?
For in this I have had a full probation.
And yet for this want a supply is provided,
To a higher than earth the soul is guided,
We are ready and yearn for revelation:
And where are its light and warmth so blent
As here in the New Testament?
I feel, this moment, a mighty yearning
To expound for once the ground text of all,
The venerable original
Into my own loved German honestly turning.
[_He opens the volume, and applies himself to the task_.]
"In the beginning was the _Word_." I read.
But here I stick! Who helps me to proceed?
The _Word_--so high I cannot--dare not, rate it,
I must, then, otherwise translate it,
If by the spirit I am rightly taught.
It reads: "In the beginning was the _thought_."
But study well this first line's lesson,
Nor let thy pen to error overhasten!
Is it the _thought_ does all from time's first hour?