A Song of Growth

In the heart of a man
Is a thought upfurled,
Reached its full span
It shakes the world,
And to one high thought
Is a whole race wrought.

Not with vain noise
The great work grows,
Nor with foolish voice,
But in repose,--
Not in the rush
But in the hush.

From the cogent lash
Of the cloud-herd wind
The low clouds dash,
Blown headlong, blind;
But beyond, the great blue
Looks moveless through.

O’er the loud world sweep
The scourge and the rod;
But in deep beyond deep
Is the stillness of God;--
At the Fountains of Life
No cry, no strife.