What heights hath he left untrod?
He crawleth nigh to the purest star,
On the trail of the saints of God.
And throughout the darkness of things unclean,
In the depths where the sin-ghouls brood,
There prowleth ever with yearning mien--
A lamb as white as Blood!


* * * * *


HUGH AUSTIN


_THE ASTRONOMERS PRAYER_

Night. O Thou God! who rulest Heaven and earth,
The terraced atmospheres, the bounded seas;
Who knowest equally both death and birth,
Frail human men, strong divine mysteries,
Whose unencumbered thought sways all the spheres,
In all their turning, snake-like, perfect ways;
Now that the season of my labour nears,
Grant me an insight to Thy larger days!

To Thee all things create and unborn yield,
Being of Thee, the secret of their souls--
The traversed elements, the azure field
Whereo'er eternal each huge star-world rolls.