O God within the awful voiceless void,— God of the terrible and viewless night, God also of the burning midday light,— God, by whose hand the countless stars are buoyed, And all the golden sunrise-clouds deployed, And all the ridges of the sea made bright, And the far snow-fields limitlessly white,— God whom the green woods worship, overjoyed:— We cannot reach thee: yet can prayer make head Against the glittering tide of stars and suns And reach thy gracious central throne at once? Can our lone cry surmount the hill-tops red With fiery sunset? Can we find thee, Lord,— Or are our groans towards earless heights outpoured! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LET IT BE YOU by SARA TEASDALE A SONG FROM THE COPTIC by JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE DIFFERENT MINDS by RICHARD CHENEVIX TRENCH SONNET: 4 by RICHARD BARNFIELD BAB-LOCK-HYTHE by LAURENCE BINYON THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 36. FEAR HAS CAST OUT LOVE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |