 | Poems |  |
EXPECTANCY.
Perpetual dawn makes glorious all hills;Perpetual altar-feast sets fresh shew-bread;
Perpetual symphony swells overhead;
Perpetual revelation pours and fills
For every eye and ear and soul which wills
And waits, with will and waiting which are wed
Into true harmony, like that which led
The forces under which, with silent thrills,
Earth's subtile life began.
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Of each new age of great eternity, I think,
After the ages have all countless grown,
Our souls will poise and launch with eager wing,
Forgetting blessedness already known,
In sweet impatience for God's next good thing.
| Poems | |