Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/33

 

Yes, my God, I come before Thee, Come Thou also down to me; There we find Thee and adore Thee There a heaven on earth must he. To my heart, oh, enter Thou, Let it be Thy temple now.

Here Thy praise is gladly chanted, Here Thy seed is duly sown; Let my soul, where it is planted, Bring forth precious sheaves alone, So that all I hear may be Fruitful unto life in me.

Thou my faith increase and quicken, Let me keep Thy gift divine Howsoe'er temptations thicken; May Thy word still o'er me shine. As my pole-star through my life, As my comfort in my strife.

Speak, O God, and I will hear Thee, Let Thy will be done indeed; May I undisturbed draw near Thee While Thou dost Thy people feed; Here of life the Fountain flows, Here is balm for all our woes.  undefined  —below—where'er I gaze, Thy guiding finger, Lord, I view, Traced in the midnight planets' blaze, Or glistening in the morning dew; Whate'er is beautiful or fair, Is but Thine own reflection there.

I hear Thee in the stormy wind, That turns the ocean wave to foam; Nor less Thy wondrous power I find, When summer airs around me roam; The tempest and the calm declare Thyself, for Thou art everywhere.

I find Thee in the depth of night, And read Thy Name in every star 