I.
He dwelt alone, and sun and moon
       &nbspWere witness that he made
Rejection of his humanness
       &nbspUntil they seemed to fade;
His face did so, for he did grow
       &nbspOf his own soul afraid.

II.
The self-poised God may dwell alone
       &nbspWith inward glorying,
But God's chief angel waiteth for
       &nbspA brother's voice, to sing;
And a lonely creature of sinful nature
       &nbspIt is an awful thing.

III.
An awful thing that feared itself;
       &nbspWhile many years did roll,
A lonely man, a feeble man,
       &nbspA part beneath the whole,
He bore by day, he bore by night
That pressure of God's infinite
       &nbspUpon his finite soul.

IV.
The poet at his lattice sate,
       &nbspAnd downward lookèd he.
Three Christians wended by to prayers,
       &nbspWith mute ones in their ee;
Each turned above a face of love
       &nbspAnd called him to the far chapèlle
With voice more tuneful than its bell:
       &nbspBut still they wended three.

V.
There journeyed by a bridal pomp,
       &nbspA bridegroom and his dame;
He speaketh low for happiness,
       &nbspShe blusheth red for shame:
But never a tone of benison
       &nbspFrom out the lattice came.

VI.
A little child with inward song,
       &nbspNo louder noise to dare,
Stood near the wall to see at play
       &nbspThe lizards green and rare—
Unblessed the while for his childish smile
       &nbspWhich cometh unaware.