A Thought On Beachy Head Poem by Caroline Fry

ENOUGH for feeling, though too brief for words
A moment on the lofty cliff I stood,
And from the fearful precipice above,
Look'd many a fathom down upon the flood.

The moon-beam slept upon the snow-white cliff,
The chasm frown'd more darkly than by day;
No sound of living thing was on the air,
And ocean's self in seeming slumber lay.

Swiftly my spirit rose above the world,
Far as that tow'ring cliff above the tide,
And soaring high o'er all created things,
Tasted a freedom in the world denied

In fancy walking nearer to the skies,
It rose to Him with whom I was alone,
Life and its narrow interests pass'd away,
Its cares forgotten and its wishes gone.

It was a blissful moment,God was all,
And earth was nothing,'twas a bliss more true,
And for the one brief moment that it stay'd,
More sweet than e'er from earthly feeling grew.

'Tis even so, O God, the soul must rise
Above the world or ere it can be free,
'Tis even thus thy wisdom has decreed,
Farthest from earth shall still be nearest thee.