COME TO ME

Come to me, come to me, O my God;

Come to me everywhere.

Let the trees mean thee, and the grassy sod,

And the water and the air.

For thou art so far that I often doubt,

As on every side I stare,

Searching within and looking without,

If thou canst be anywhere.

How did men find thee in days of old?

How did they grow so sure?

They fought in thy name, they were glad and bold,

They suffered and kept themselves pure.

But now they say--neither above the sphere

Nor down in the heart of man,

But only in fancy, ambition, and fear,

The thought of thee began.

If only that perfect tale were true

Which ages have not made old,

Of the endless many makes one anew,

And simplicity manifold!

But he taught that they who did his word,

The truth of it sure would know;

I will try to do it--if he be Lord

Again the old faith will glow.

Again the old spirit-wind will blow

That he promised to their prayer;

And obeying the Son, I too shall know

His Father everywhere.

--George Macdonald.

Out of the hardness of heart and of will

Out of the longings which nothing could fill;

Out of the bitterness, madness, and strife,

Out of myself and all I called life,

Into the having of all things with Him!

Into an ecstacy full to the brim!

Wonderful loveliness, draining my cup!

Wonderful purpose that ne'er gave me up!

Wonderful patience, enduring and strong!

Wonderful glory to which I belong!