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THE STARRY SKIES.
I spake : but God was nowhere seen ;
Was His love too tired to wait? Ah no ! my own unsimple love
Hath often made me late.
How often things already won
It urges me to win, How often makes me look outside
For that which is within!
Our souls go too much out of self
Into ways dark and dim : 'T is rather God who seeks for us,
Than we who seek for Him.
Yet surely through my tears I saw
God softly drawing near ; How came He without sight or sound
So soon to disappear ?
God was not gone: but He so longed
His sweetness to impart, He too was seeking for a home,
And found it in my heart.
Twice had I erred: a distant God Was what I could not bear;
Sorrows and cares were at my side; I longed to have Him there. |
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