“Thou knowest all; I seek in vainWhat lands to till or sow with seed -The land is black with briar and weed,Nor cares for falling tears or rain.Thou knowest all; I sit and waitWith blinded eyes and hands that fail,Till the last lifting of the veilAnd the first opening of the gate.Thou knowest all; I cannot see.I trust I shall not live in vain,I know that we shall meet againIn some divine eternity.”