O wondrous world within a world How beautiful thou art! What high desire, what holy fire Lie glowing at thy heart! What beauty, like the silent stars, Hangs ever o’er thy brow; What youth, as old as Paradise, Springs deathless in thee now! Where did we learn to love thy face— The music of thy name? A leafy door beside the shore Was opened—and we came. Our lost ideals, grown more fair, Thronged back through all thy ways; Another life—a real life— Filled all our empty days. The world smiled, saying, “These are they Who live among the trees; Whose thoughts rise higher than the stars And soar beyond the trees. They do not weigh their wealth with gold Or measure it with fame; They speak a language all their own They bear a hidden name.” So weighs the world its own true life, Nor knows it as its own, While, Life of Life, above all strife God waits upon His throne; He waits until the world of things And the world of thoughts shall be Blent in that perfect thing we call The New Humanity. What joy is thine, O world within, To bear thy banners out, And there to claim in God’s dear Name The last and least redoubt! The earth is His—the heav’ns are His, He stooped to make them one When that great mystery was wrought That gave us God the Son. The world without is blind to thee, Thou world of the within, Yet through the years thy saints and seers Its oracles have been. Still trust them with thy prophecies; Still through them breathe thy breath; Till honor blossoms from the dust And life spring out of death. |