God in All

Lord, where shall I find Thee?
High and hidden is Thy place;
And where shall I not find Thee?
The world is full of Thy glory.
Found in the innermost being,
He set up the ends of the earth:
The refuge for the near,
The trust for those far off.
Thou dwellest amid the Cherubim,
Thou abidest in the clouds;
Thou art praised by Thine hosts
Yet art raised above their praise.
The whirling worlds cannot contain Thee;
How then the chambers of a temple?
And though Thou be uplifted over them
Upon a throne high and exalted,
Yet art Thou near to them,
Of their very spirit and their flesh.
Their own mouth testifieth for them
That Thou alone art their Creator.
Who shall not fear Thee,
Since the yoke of Thy kingdom is their yoke?
Or who shall not call to Thee,
Since Thou givest them their food?
I have sought Thy nearness,
With all my heart have I called Thee,
And going out to meet Thee
I found Thee coming toward me,
Even as, in the wonder of Thy might,
In the sanctuary I have beheld Thee.
Who shall say he hath not seen Thee?—
Lo, the heavens and their hosts
Declare the fear of Thee,
Though their voice be not heard.
Doth then, in very truth,
God dwell with man?
What can he think—every one that thinketh,
Whose foundation is in the dust—
Since Thou art holy, dwelling
Amid their praises and their glory?
Angels adore Thy wonder,
Standing in the everlasting height;
Over their heads is Thy throne,
And Thou upholdest them all!