Lxi

We know not of one mood that’s hers, Or glad or grave, which has not drawn Its source from God’s deep universe, As th’ hours draw the day from dawn-- Nature’s! who holds us quietly But earnestly, as by a spell, Whose contact with us seems to be Actual and yet intangible.

In us she thus asserts her claims Of kinship and divine control; God-teacher of exalted aims, The high consents of heart and soul: Imperfectly man sees and feels, Through earthly mediums of his fate, The premonitions she reveals For issues that shall elevate.