Classic Poem

O Thou that weavest sun and stars
Upon Thine everlasting loom,
Whose pattern makes of Earth and Mars
But glittering spots of flame — to whom
Save Thee, Thou source of soul and fire,
Shall I, unkindled dust, aspire?

The universe that thrills with Thee
Is half Thyself yet is not Thou,
Behind the quivering mask I see,
With them of old, Thy face and brow;
Like Moses on the awful height,
I all but touch Thee day and night!

Their flames are one with those that shine
In Sirius and the Milky Way,
Both share the Energy divine,
Nor mind nor matter knows decay —
Stars fall, force changes, men must bow,
Yet all is life, and life is — Thou!