Abstraction from all thought, all care, all love,
All hatred and all sympathy; can
this
-
This soul-annihilation-be Heaven's bliss?

This
, virtue's highest recompense above,
After life's turbulent troubles?
This
Divine-

This
worthy of the Godhead? Higher far,
Even as infinites to nothings are,
The very feeblest dawnings which enshrine

Our
God,
our
Father! for, though faint and dim
Our visual organs, yet we see in
them
-
All active as creation-neither rest
Nor weariness, but from the source of might
He pours out ceaseless tides of love and light-
Blessing with busiest energies, and blest!