Beneath a sable veil and shadows deep

Of unaccessible and dimming light,

In silence, ebon clouds more black than night,

The world's great King His secrets hid doth keep:

Through those thick mists, when any mortal wight

Aspires, with halting pace and eyes that weep,

To pore, and in His mysteries to creep,

With thunders He and lightnings blasts their sight.

O Sun invisible, that dost abide

Within Thy bright abysms, most fair, most dark,

Where with Thy proper rays Thou dost Thee hide!

O ever-shining, never full-seen mark!

To guide me in life's night Thy light me show;--

The more I search, of Thee the less I know.