Hymn

When by the marbled lake I lie and listen
To one sweet voice that sings to me alone,
Veil'd by green leaves whose silver faces glisten
In breezy light down the blue summer blown,
I praise thee, God.

When her white ivory fingers twine and quiver,
Twinkling thro' mine, and when her golden hair
Flows down her neck, like sunlight down a river,
And half she is, and half she is not there,
I praise thee, God.

When I can look from my proud height above her,
In her quaint faery face, or o'er her bend,
And know I am her friend but not her lover,
That she is not my lover but my friend,
I praise thee, God.

When I have heard the imprison'd echoes breaking
From rolling clouds, like shouts of gods in fight,
Or armies calling armies, when awaking,
They rise all breathless from too large delight,
I praise thee, God.

When I have seen the scarlet lightnings falling
From cloudy battlements, like throneless kings;
Have seen great angels that, to angels calling,
Open and shut their gold and silver wings,
I praise thee, God.

When I have passed a nobler life in sorrow:
Have seen rude masses grow to fulgent spheres;
Seen how To-day is father of To-morrow,
And how the Ages justify the Years,
I praise thee, God.