THE GREAT COMRADE

I hear Thy voice within the world, Thy thunder from the heaven hurled;

I lean and listen to the trees Chanting Thine age-long litanies.

Over white leagues of ice and snow, Through drift and storm I watch Thee go;

Upon the sea's sad surge behold Marks of Thy journeyings manifold.

Where lilies lowly bow the head Some marvel of Thyself is shed;

Earth's joyous, wild, and wandering things Are hints of Thy rememberings.

From mist of stars upward to man, Lord, all Thy ways I dimly scan.

To what divine and unguessed goals, Comrade, invitest Thou all souls!