Page:Poems of Rainer Maria Rilke (1918).djvu/103

 The Book of Pilgrimage All those who seek Thee tempt Thee,

And those who find would bind Thee

To gesture and to form.

But I would comprehend Thee

As the wide Earth unfolds Thee.

Thou growest with my maturity,

Thou Art in calm and storm.

I ask of Thee no vanity

To evidence and prove Thee.

Thou Wert in eons old.

Perform no miracles for me,

But justify Thy laws to me

Which, as the years pass by me,

All soundlessly unfold.

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