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God-seeking thou hast journeyed far and nigh.
On dawn-lit mountain-tops thy soul did yearn
To hear His trailing garments wander by;
And where ‘mid thunderous glooms great sunsets burn,
Vainly thou sought’st His shadow on sea and sky;
Or gazing up, at noontide, could’st discern
Only a neutral heaven’s indifferent eye
And countenance austerely taciturn.

Yet whom thou soughtest I have found at last;
Neither where tempest dims the world below
Nor where the westering daylight reels aghast
In conflagrations of red overthrow:
But where this virgin brooklet silvers past,
And yellowing either bank the king-cups blow.