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“ From Thy distant throne in glory, flash upon
my inward sight, Fill the midnight of my spirit with the splen
dour of Thy light.
“ All Thine other gifts and blessings, common
mercies, I disown; Separated from my brothers, I would see Thy
“Let them toil and pray together, let them win
earth's best reward, This shall be my only glory - I alone have
seen the Lord.
“I have watched and I have waited as one
watcheth for the morn: Still Thou hidest in the heavens, still Thou
leavest me forlorn.
“Now I seek Thee in the desert, where the
holy hermits dwell; There, beside the saint Serapion, I will find a
“There at last Thou wilt be gracious; there
Thy presence, long-concealed, In the solitude and silence to my heart shall
“ Thou shalt come, at morn or even, o'er the
rolling waves of sand; I shall see Thee close beside me, I shall touch
Thy pierced hand.
“ Lo, Thy pilgrim kneels before Thee; bless
my journey with a word ; Tell me now that, if I follow, I shall find Thee,
O my Lord ! "
Felix listened: through the darkness, like the
whispering of the wind, Came a secret voice in answer : “ Seek aright,
and thou shalt find."
Long and toilsome was his pathway through
the heavy land of heat, Egypt's blazing sun above him, blistering sands
beneath his feet.
Still he plodded slowly onward, step by step
and mile by mile, Till he reached the rugged mountain, beetling
high above the Nile,
Where the birds of air assemble, once a year,
their noisy flocks, Then, departing, leave their sentinel perched
among the barren rocks.
Far away, on wings of gladness, over land and
sea they fly; But the watcher on the summit lonely stands
against the sky.
There the eremite Serapion in a cave had made
his bed; There the bands of wandering pilgrims sought
his blessing, brought him bread.
Month by month, in deep seclusion, hidden in
the rocky cleft, Dwelt the hermit, fasting, praying ; once a year
the cave he left.
On that day, one happy pilgrim, chosen out of
all the land, Won a special sign of favour from the holy
Underneath the narrow window, at the door
way closely sealed, While the afterglow of sunset deepened round
him, Felix kneeled.
“ Man of God, of men most holy - thou whose
gifts cannot be priced !. Grant me thy most precious guerdon; tell me
how to find the Christ.”
Breathless, Felix bowed and listened, but no
answering voice he heard ; Darkness folded, dumb and deathlike, round the
Mountain of the Bird.
Then he said, “The saint is silent - he would
teach my soul to wait; I will tarry here in patience, like a beggar at
So the companies of pilgrims, clambering up
the rocky stair, Found the lonely, voiceless stranger by the
window, lost in prayer,
Never moving from his station, watching there
without complaint, Soon they came to call him holy, fed him as
they fed the saint.
Day by day he saw the sunrise flood the distant
plain with gold, While the River Nile beneath him, silvery
coiling, seaward rolled.
Night by night he saw the planets range their
glittering court on high, Saw the moon, with regal motion, mount her
throne and rule the sky.
Morn advanced and midnight fled, in visionary
pomp attired; Never morn and never midnight brought the