| O CHANTRY of the Cherubim, | |
| Down-looking on the stream! | |
| Beneath thy boughs the day grows dim; | |
| Through windows comes the gleam; | |
| A thousand raptures fill the air, | 5 |
| Beyond delight, beyond despair. | |
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| I will not name one flower that clings | |
| In cluster at my feet! | |
| I will not hail one bird that sings | |
| Its anthem loud or sweet! | 10 |
| This is the floor of Heaven, and these | |
| The angels that God’s ear do please. | |
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| I walk as one unclothed of flesh, | |
| I wash my spirit clean; | |
| I see old miracles afresh, | 15 |
| And wonders yet unseen. | |
| I will not leave Thee till Thou give | |
| Some word whereby my soul may live! | |
| |
| I listened—but no voice I heard; | |
| I looked—no likeness saw; | 20 |
| Slowly the joy of flower and bird | |
| Did like a tide withdraw; | |
| And in the heaven a silent star | |
| Smiled on me, infinitely far. | |
| |
| I buoyed me on the wings of dream, | 25 |
| Above the world of sense; | |
| I set my thought to sound the scheme, | |
| And fathom the Immense; | |
| I tuned my spirit as a lute | |
| To catch wind-music wandering mute. | 30 |
| |
| Yet came there never voice nor sign; | |
| But through my being stole | |
| Sense of a Universe divine, | |
| And knowledge of a soul | |
| Perfected in the joy of things, | 35 |
| The star, the flower, the bird that sings. | |
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| Nor I am more, nor less, than these; | |
| All are one brotherhood; | |
| I and all creatures, plants, and trees, | |
| The living limbs of God; | 40 |
| And in an hour, as this, divine, | |
| I feel the vast pulse throb in mine. | |
