CXI

WHO were “the Father and the Son”—

We pondered when a child,

And what had they to do with us—

And when portentous told

With inference appalling,

By Childhood fortified,

We thought, “at least they are no worse

Than they have been described.”

Who are “the Father and the Son”—

Did we demand today,

“The Father and the Son” himself

Would doubtless specify,

But had they the felicity

When we desired to know,

We better Friends had been, perhaps,

Than time ensue to be.

We start, to learn that we believe

But once, entirely—

Belief, it does not fit so well

When altered frequently.

We blush, that Heaven if we achieve,

Event ineffable—

We shall have shunned, until ashamed

To own the Miracle.