Chapter XLV

Such circumstance of passionate praise
Hath no religion; and the creeds
No pomp of worship or of grace
Like Nature’s, standing face to face
With God, whose inmost thought she reads:
No multitude of words she needs,
Since all her worship is one word
Of love, like that creation heard.

God leaves progression in her care:
Through her it must materialize--
Our Mother! with strong lips of prayer,
Majestic-browed, with hands that bare
Immortal fire from the skies:
Who looks, with no evasive eyes,
Through life, and, smiling, sees beneath
The beautiful, dark eyes of death.