Poem by Jean Ingelow

* * *

'In Him we live, and move, and have our being.'

The measureless gulfs of air are full of Thee:
Thou Art, and therefore hang the stars; they wait,
And swim, and shine in God who bade them be,
And hold their sundering voids inviolate.

A God concern'd (veil'd in pure light) to bless,
With sweet revealing of His love, the soul;
Toward things piteous, full of piteousness;
The Cause, the Life, and the continuing Whole.

He is more present to all things He made
Than anything unto itself can be;
Full-foliaged boughs of Eden could not shade
Afford, since God was also 'neath the tree.

Thou knowest me altogether; I knew not
Thy likeness till Thou mad'st it manifest.
There is no world but is Thy heaven; no spot
Remote; Creation leans upon Thy breast.

Thou art beyond all stars, yet in my heart
Wonderful whisperings hold Thy creature dumb;
I need no search afar; to me Thou art
Father, Redeemer, and Renewer—come. 

1. Perdita
2. Scholar and Carpenter
3. Grand Is The Leisure Of The Earth
4. The Beginning
5. Requiescat In Pace!

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