Verse > Anthologies > The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse > 109. So far, so near
Nicholson & Lee, eds.  The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse. 1917.
109. So far, so near
By Christopher Pearse Cranch  (1813–1892)
THOU, so far, we grope to grasp thee—
Thou, so near, we cannot clasp thee—
Thou, so wise, our prayers grow heedless—
Thou, so loving, they are needless!
In each human soul thou shinest,        5
Human-best is thy divinest.
In each deed of love thou warmest;
Evil into good transformest.
Soul of all, and moving centre
Of each moment’s life we enter.       10
Breath of breathing—light of gladness—
Infinite antidote of sadness;—
All-preserving ether flowing
Through the worlds, yet past our knowing.
Never past our trust and loving,       15
Nor from thine our life removing.
Still creating, still inspiring,
Never of thy creatures tiring;
Artist of thy solar spaces;
And thy humble human faces;       20
Mighty glooms and splendours voicing;
In thy plastic work rejoicing;
Through benignant law connecting
Best with best—and all perfecting,
Though all human races claim thee,       25
Thought and language fail to name thee,
Mortal lips be dumb before thee,
Silence only may adore thee!



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