I have foreknown Thee! Oh, I have foreknown Thee.
⁠Going,
The years have shown me Thy premonitory face.
Intolerably clear, the farthest sky is glowing.
I wait in silence Thy withheld and worshiped grace.
The farthest sky is glowing: white for Thy appearing.
Yet terror clings to me. Thy image will be strange.

And insolent suspicion will rouse upon Thy nearing.
The features long foreknown, beheld at last, will change.
How shall I then be fallen! low, with no defender:
Dead dreams will conquer me; the glory, glimpsed, will
⁠change.
The farthest sky is glowing! Nearer looms the splendor!
Yet terror clings to me. Thy image will be strange.