The Father

If it were only a dream,
Were it not good to cherish,
Seeing to lose its beam
Is in despair to perish —
Maker and Father and Friend,
Yearning in pity to guide me,
Leading me on to the end,
Ever in love beside me,
Never in storm or gloom
Deaf to a cry of sorrow,
Kindling beyond the tomb
Light of an endless morrow?

Yea, if 't were only a dream,
Better it were to clasp it,
Brood on it until it seem
Real as the lives that grasp it.
Helpless, feeble, and lost,
Groping in Wisdom's traces,
Whirl'd like a leaf, and tost
Out in the awful spaces, —
Oh, how the heart betray'd
Bounds, into life upleaping,
Trusting that He who made
Watch over all is keeping!