INTO the heaven of Thy heart, O God, I lift up my life, like a flower; Thy light is deep, and Thy love is broad, And I am not the child of an hour. As a little blossom is fed from the whole Vast depth of unfathomed air, Through every fibre of thought my soul Reaches forth, in Thyself to share. I dare to say unto Thee, my God, Who hast made me to climb so high, That I shall not crumble away with the clod: I am Thine, and I cannot die! The throb of Thy infinite life I feel In every beat of my heart; Upon me hast Thou set eternity's seal; Forever alive, as Thou art. I know not Thy mystery, O my God, Nor yet what my own life means, That feels after Thee, through the mould and the sod, And the darkness that intervenes. But I know that I live, since I hate the wrong, The glory of truth can see; Can cling to the right with a purpose strong, Can love and can will with Thee. And I feel Thee through other lives, my God, That into Thyself have grown, And are filled with the sweetness of Thine abode, With the light that is all Thine own. Because I have known the human heart And its heavenly tenderness, I am sure that Thou with Thy children art: They bless me as Thou dost bless. Shall I doubt Thy breath which I breathe, my God? Shall I reason myself into dust? Thy Word flows fresh through the earth abroad; My soul to Thy Soul I trust! Thou hast entered into humanity, And hast made it, like Thee, divine; And the grave and corruption it shall not see, This Holy One that is Thine! |