The Word of God

In holy books we read how God hath spoken
To holy men in many different ways ;

But hath the present work'd no sign or token ?
Is God quite silent in these latter days ?

And hath our heavenly Sire departed quite.
And left His poor babes in this world alone,
And only left for blind belief — not sight —
Some quaint old riddles in a tongue unknown '?

Oh ! think it not, sweet maid ! God comes to us
With every day, with every star that rises ;
In every moment dwells the Righteous,
And starts upon the soul in sweet surprises.

The word were but a blank, a hollow sound,
If He that spake it were not speaking still, —

If all the light and all the shade around
Were aught but issues of Almighty will.

Sweet girl, believe that every bird that sings,
And every flower that stars the elastic sod,

And every thought the happy summer brings
To thy pure spirit, is a word of God.