I sought the court; but smooth-tongued flattery there I' the thronged city there was selling, buying, I' the country, craft in simpleness arrayed, "Vain is my search, although my pains be great; Where my God is there can be no deceit." A scrutiny within myself I then Even thus began: “O man, what art thou?" What more could I say Than dust and clay, Frail, mortal, fading, a mere puff, a blast, Enthroned today, tomorrow in an urn, Formed from that earth to which I must return? I asked myself what this great God might be I answered: The all-potent, sole, immense, Unspeakable, inscrutable, eternal, Lord over all; The only terrible, strong, just, and true, He is the well of life, for he doth give Both breath and being; he is the Creator Earth, air, and fire. Of all things that subsist Of all the heavenly host, or what earth claims, And now, my God, by thine illumining grace, (So far forth as it may discovered be) And though invisible and infinite, To human sight Thou, in thy mercy, justice, truth, appearest, O, make us apt to seek and quick to find, Give us love, hope, and faith, in thee to trust, Remit all our offences, we entreat, Most good! most great! Grant that our willing, though unworthy quest THE HILL HORACE HOLLEY Be not too certain, life! (Or is that power of death, that tedious power Which with insistent sneer Shatters continually and steeps in slime The difficult house I raise The house of consciousness?)— Be not too certain of me; Deem me not wholly tamed, Content with labour ineffectual Upon this ruined house of thought; Or, turning to things outside, Content to hurry a life-time through these streets Darkened with vaster ineffectiveness Even this sea-flung, sea-swift fog Makes so pathetic romance of! Count not too long upon my slavehood! For as I have often dreamed, There is a hill Sloping against the dizzy, mystic sky There is a hill And, pausing for courageous breath Fleeing from thee, O insufficient life! Already perfect, consummated present For, writhing as I might be Upon the wheel of dissolution, Never was so great aspiration void; And I shall wholly triumph Convinced at last of my own perfect soul, And God, the soul's desire. LOST AND FOUND GEORGE MACDONALD I missed him when the sun began to bend; REVELATION EDWIN MARKHAM I made a pilgrimage to find the God: CREDO EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON I cannot find my way: there is no star Of lost, imperial music, played when fair No, there is not a glimmer, nor a call, For one that welcomes, welcomes when he fears, I feel the coming glory of the Light! THE UNKNOWN GOD GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL (A. E.) Far up the dim twilight fluttered The lights grew thicker unheeded, WHO BY SEARCHING CAN FIND OUT GOD? ELIZA SCUDDER I cannot find Thee! Still on restless pinion I cannot find Thee! Even when most adoring Yet high above the limits of my seeing, And folded far within the inmost heart, And deep below the deeps of conscious being, I cannot lose Thee! Still in Thee abiding |