The Long Quest

“Has the longest prayer of man been answered to thee, Stranger, and hast thou thy friend?”

--Amiel’s Journal.

Friend, I have found thee not; I have not heard Thy voice, nor touched thy hand, nor seen thine eyes Grow clear with that great speech which needs not words: Yet do I seek thee--asking of the stars, Low-swung across this desert sky of mine, If anywhere they shine on one who goes Swift-footed to like end on kindred road.

Yet do I seek thee--asking of the wind, Old Master-Singer, singing down the world, Mingling all music in his endless song, If he has caught some word, some tone, of thine To stir my silence like a trumpet call. I seek thee where the tall pines laugh and lean Against the sun, against the storm and cloud; For thou art strong like them and swift to joy; Strong to endure; deep-rooted into life; And glad of earth as of the blue above.

I seek thee where the patient grasses go Across the hills; their patience is as thine; Thy quiet surety that Life’s barrens yet Shall blossom; yet shall yield their fruit and seed; Not less, nor less approved, measured at last, Than lavish harvests won by lighter toil. I seek thee where the wild floods whirl and swing Through riven cañons, mad to reach the sea; As some great soul that dares to know the all-- The worst, the best, the farthest bound of life; Holding the pain and passion little price For one strong leap beyond the utmost verge, One mighty hail across the infinite.

Friend, friend, I seek thee; holding that high quest Better than all earth’s finding. Go thy way Swift and unhindered under thine own star; Along whatever way thy feet must take Past high and higher, on to higher yet; On to the farthest peak thine eyes can see;-- I seek thee, seek thee; call to thee “God speed!” Go thou, nor wait--sure that somewhere I come.