Explore "To the True Romance" by Rudyard Kipling on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Thy face is far from this our war, / Our call and counter-cry, / I shall not find Thee quick and kind, / Nor know Thee till I die, / Enough for me in dreams to see / And touch Thy garments' hem: / Thy feet have trod so near to God / I may not follow them.
Through wantonness if men profess / They weary of Thy parts, / E'en let them die at blasphemy / And perish with their arts; / But we that love, but we that prove / Thine excellence august, / While we adore discover more / Thee perfect, wise, and just.