The Pure in Heart See God
By Sara Edgarton Mayo


In the lone dell and by the leaping fountain, 
Where the moss springeth by the hazel-rod, 
By the wild rose-tree on the rugged mountain, 
The pure in heart see God. 
They see him where the wild cascade is foaming 
Above the dark and deeply-fretted rooks, 
And where, through primrose-meadows meekly roaming, 
Are feeding snow-white flocks. 

Where crested waves o'er rocks are wildly dashing, 
Where nought hot venturous mermaid e'er hath trod, 
Where scattered sea-gems in the light are lashing, 
The pure in heart see God. 
They see him in the dim and tangled wild-wood, 
Where dreamy music haunts the hollow ground; 
They see him in the rosy bowers of childhood, 
Where light and song abound. 

In the gay city, when earth' golden splendor 
Starts from its hidden caves, and room abroad; 
Where crowds, to empty pomp, their peace surrender, 
The pure in heart see God. 

They see hits in the cot, when beneath lowly 
The humble worshipper at God's own shrine, 
Whose mind is fined on heaven, whose heart is holy, 
Whose hopes are all divine. 

Where the green willow on the grave low traileth, 
Where the sweet pansy weeps upon the sod, 
Where all the pride of man in terror faileth 
The pure in heart see God. 
They see him where the gate of heaven wide swingeth, 
And they are led by angel-hands within; 
Where Jesus all his fold together bringeth, 
Without a trace of sin.