Part 2 (2/2)

There are no solitudes to view, The whole world lies in drop of dew; From where it hangs all s.p.a.ce is open; It neighbors stars of the crystal blue.

This open vision has my soul Athrill with silent organ-roll Of immanence divine, and feels it Upgather all in harmonious whole,--

Deep waves of G.o.d's vast music clear, That pulse one choral atmosphere Of Love's concordant purposes, and Fore-score the song of His golden year.

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If mighty angels fair and tall, Each robed as priestly seneschal, On altar-suns burn incense daily, As wheel the systems to Love's sweet call,

Earth's sun is sure an altar-rose, Abloom from dawn to day's bright close.

The mighty angel stoops above it With pulsing wings, as it golden glows,

To fan the incense-waves through s.p.a.ce.

When buds the light or folds its grace, He lifts erect his glorious stature, Kindling the sky from his ruddy face.

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Across the hills the cattle call, As black the boding shadows fall; Zigzag the lightning writes its message That's thundered forth from the mountain wall.

From out the overhanging frown The loosened rain comes rattling down!

The swallow's gone, the daisy cowers-- But joy to fields in their tan and brown!

The burnished cypher of the sky Now lets the loud-tongued thunder die.

Nature's delight, a timeless rapture, Glows in her face and rekindled eye.

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The ”trees of G.o.d,” the prophet said, Great trees, with sap, and laurelled head; Ay, trees of G.o.d! all strength, all beauty, Wove by invisible Hand and thread,--

With anchors flexed as lissome withe; With boles like mighty monolith; These arms of brawn, outstretched in power To brave the storms that would test their pith!

Lords of the scene in blasts and calms, The breath of life within their palms, They rhythmic sway in choral murmur While seas and suns chant their rolling psalms.

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