17 APRIL 1875, Page 18

POETRY.

TO THE UNKNOWABLE.

0 Tnou! whom men affirm we cannot 'know,' It may be we shall never see Thee nearer Than in the clouds, nor ever trace Thee clearer Than in that garment which, howe'er a-glow With life divine, is still a changing show, A little shadowing forth, and more concealing, A glory which in uttermost revealing Might strike us dead with one supreme life-blow.

We may not reach Thee through the void immense, Measur'd by suns, or prove Thee anywhere ; But hungry eyes that hunt the wilds above For one lost face still drop despairing thence, To find Thee, in the heart,—love's ravish'd lair ; Else were 'the sting of death' not 'sin,' but love !

Mayfield, West Hill, Putney, S. W. EMILY PFEIFFER.