ETERNITIES

I cannot count the pebbles in the brook.

Well hath He spoken:‘ Swear not by thy head,

Thou knowest not the hairs,’ though He, we read,

Writes that wild number in his own strange book.

I cannot count the sands or search the seas,

Death cometh, and I leave so much untrod.

Grant my immortal aureole, O my God,

And I will name the leaves upon the trees.

In heaven I shall stand on gold and glass,

Still brooding earth's arithmetic to spell;

Or see the fading of the fires of hell

Ere I have thanked my God for all the grass.