Out of the Mist
SUDDEN from out the chaos of men's murmurings, A burst of music rang exultant, rising; For forth from out the depths of blurred dark, A Star shot, born of the gray mistiness. Clear, on the edge of a day cloud, dark o'erspreading, It shed its burning radiance, glowing steadfast; Casting its light in lowly places, piercing With its bright rays the hearts of men.
. . . . . A day cloud,Dark, o'erspreading, filled to burstingWith the tears of many ages, gathered up unto itselfFrom the eyes of men, hard-driven, hopeless,And the hearts of sobbing women;Drifting vaguely, heavy-laden,Swept by winds of wailing, moaning,Surging winds of piteous suffering. . . . . .
The Star rays fell toward the East,Where is the Land of Promise,Fair painted by aged Memory's loving touchAnd Hope's own wistful luring.And when men saw, a joyous song,A chant of gladness, broke the wailing.And great sighs of happy bodingsRising, stirred the dark cloud, turningA silver edge toward the day.O wondrous Star!. O Star of steadfast shining!Man's leader! Messenger of God!Strong was thy great true light,Though shed but for a narrow span of Time,As man knows Time. . . .
Men bow their headsIn helpless sorrow at thy passing;Yet smile to see the Dawn of Promise glowWhere radiant thy rays bent toward the East.