’Tis the hour of even now,

When, with pensive, thoughtful brow,

Seeking truths as yet unknown,

Bishop Hubert walks alone.

Fain would he, by lonely thought,

Nature's secret laws be taught,

Learn the destinies of man,

And creation's wonders scan.

From these data he would trace

Hidden mysteries of grace,

Dive into a deeper theme,

Solve redemption's glorious scheme.

So he flings aside to-day

Mitre's pomp, and crosier's sway—

Seeks the desert's silent scene,

And the marge of ocean green.

Far he has not roam’d, before,

On that solitary shore,

He has found a little child,

By its seeming play beguiled.

In the drifted barren sand

It has scoop’d with baby hand

Small recess, in which might float

Sportive fairy's tiny boat.

From a hollow shell, the while,

See, ‘tis filling, with a smile,

Pool as shallow as may be,

With the waters of THE SEA.

Hear the smiling Bishop ask—

“What can mean such infant task?”

Mark that infant's answer plain—

“’Tis to hold yon mighty main!”—

“Foolish trifler!” Hubert cries,

“Open, if thou canst, thine eyes;—

Can a shallow scoop’d by thee

Hope to hold yon boundless sea?

“Know’st thou not its space transcends

All thy fancy comprehends;—

Ope thy childish eyes, and know—

Fathomless its depths below.”

Soon that child on ocean's brim

Opes its eyes, and turns to Him!

Well does Hubert read its look,

Glance of innocent rebuke!

While a voice is heard to say,

“If the pool, thus scoop’d in play,

Cannot hold yon mighty sea,

Vain must thy researches be.

“Canst thou hope to make thine own

Secrets known to GOD alone?

Can thy faculties confined

Fathom the ETERNAL MIND?”

Bishop Hubert turns away;—

He has learnt enough to-day—

Learnt how little man can know

On his pilgrimage below.

Reader, wouldst thou wiser be,

Let this truth suffice for thee;

Seek not what is sought in vain—

Knowledge by OBEDIENCE gain!

Be presumption's sin abhorr’d—

For the secrets of THE LORD,

If reveal’d to mortals here,

Dwell with those who LOVE!— and FEAR!