THE GREAT COMRADE

I hear Thy voice within the world,

Thy thunder from the heaven hurled;

I lean and listen to the trees

Chanting Thine age-long litanies.

Over white leagues of ice and snow,

Through drift and storm I watch Thee go;

Upon the sea's sad surge behold

Marks of Thy journeyings manifold.

Where lilies lowly bow the head

Some marvel of Thyself is shed;

Earth's joyous, wild, and wandering things

Are hints of Thy rememberings.

From mist of stars upward to man,

Lord, all Thy ways I dimly scan.

To what divine and unguessed goals,

Comrade, invitest Thou all souls!