Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, HYMN OF THE STAR-FOLK TO GOD, by HARRY HIBBARD KEMP


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

HYMN OF THE STAR-FOLK TO GOD, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: There is no need for thy mercy, for mercy / is ours, not thine
Last Line: With thy more-than-love above us, about us, we never need fear!
Subject(s): God; Hymns (as Literary Form); Religion; Theology


THERE is no need for thy mercy, for mercy is ours, not thine;
Thou art as impartial as suns that burn or as stars that shine,
In all infinity dwelling, with star-seas a-wash at thy feet
While the tides of the systems in storm round the bounds of eternity beat.
As deep as from zenith to nadir are thy ways and the glory thereof—
Though we call thee Father and Love, thou art greater than fathers and love.
All the gods we have fashioned to limn thee, all the fine-threaded logic we've
spun
Do no more measure thy glory than darkness measures the sun—
While we lurk and lie in the night-time lapped round in the silence of sleep,
A hint of thy power is given by Deep beyond star-sprinkled Deep,
And a mote of thy infinite glory our pitiful selfhood stuns
When we find that the suns in our eyesight are a grain of sand to thy suns,
Thy millions and billions and trillions of systems where mayhap abide
More God-seeking beings, by whom, as by us, thou art deified.
When our last day sickens in dusking crimson and crumbling gold
Our night will be as thy morning (Thou ART, nor canst thou wax old)
So sunset is ever as sunrise to nations which gaze from afar—
So sunrise and sunset are single if eyes could look down from a star.
Thou hast lived through a million judgments, seen a million systems die,
And still, like to young roses blushing, thy new suns redden the sky,
Thy new suns redden the sky while thine Old go ruinous way—
Yea, somewhere, ever, in heaven, some world has its judgment day,
And, somewhere, ever, in heaven, some new world blooms in thy sight—
And there is no end to creation, as there is no end to thy might.
O God beyond effort of language, O God beyond reach of the tongue!
O God who canst only be felt in the soul's sanctuary, not sung!
We know thou art better than best and wiser than wisest, we trust
Thee, and worship unto thee, who art as in wind is the dust!
We earth-peoples, star-peoples, dwelling in populous spaces of sky—
We, strangely living and loving, seek thee in spirit—and die!—
Yet we know that not for naught, since thou art thou, are we here!
With thy more-than-love above us, about us, we never need fear!





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