_A Song Of Growth_

In the heart of a man Is a thought upfurled, Reached its full span It shakes the world, And to one high thought Is a whole race wrought.

Not with vain noise The great work grows, Nor with foolish voice, But in repose,-- Not in the rush But in the hush.

From the cogent lash Of the cloud-herd wind The low clouds dash, Blown headlong, blind; But beyond, the great blue Looks moveless through.

O’er the loud world sweep The scourge and the rod; But in deep beyond deep Is the stillness of God;-- At the Fountains of Life No cry, no strife.