The ancient truth sufficeth for a season;

Meanwhile, in Truth's behalf, I wait an ampler view.

Prizing the olden, 'tis the better way of reason

That freely I exchange it for the larger new.

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So, whether Christ descend in power and glory

To summon Earth before his final judgment seat,

Or, in the land of hallowed memories and hoary,

He deign to tread once more with humble human feet,

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I rest in the supreme event contented,

Nor set my faulty scheme against his perfect plan.

Unto his purpose hath my willing soul consented

Ere dawns the Sun of Promise, and the Hope of man.

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Perchance beneath Himalaya's summit splendor

Of glittering ice-peaks, and far-sparkling domes of snow.

He turns the wheel of faith, or else the Truth-Defender

Expounds where broadening Ganges laves the valleys low.

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What if he choose the loud and teeming city?

Or, like to John, emerge from out the quiet wild?

Whichever, still his voice is peace and love and pity,

And recognition beams upon his lowliest child.

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If so decreed, the West shall first revere him,

Fair-haired and Saxon even as the Northmen be;

If best, the sweet, persuasive, human shall endear him,

A swarthy Buddha to our wide humanity

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Who strengthens mightily by his endeavor,

As man's strong brother wholly given to his part,

The bond by color, race, and creed, quite sundered never;

The brother bond within the universal heart.