Explore "Ararat" by Gilbert Parker on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
What marvel that the soul of youth should cry, / "Man builds his temples 'tween me and the face / Of Him whom I would seek; I cannot trace / His purpose in their shadow, nor descry
The wisdom absolute? " What marvel that, / With yearning impotent, ay, impotent / Beyond all measure! his full faith was spent, / And for his soul there rose no Ararat?
Yet out upon the sun-drawn sensate sea / Of elemental pain, there came a word / As if from Him who travelled Galilee,
As fair as any Zion ever heard.
The voice of Love spoke; Love, that writes its name / On Life and Death-and then my lady came.