Classic Poem

The thought of God, the thought of thee
Who liest in my heart,
And yet beyond imagined space
Outstretched and present art,—

It is a thought which ever makes
Life's sweetest smiles from tears,
And is a daybreak to our hopes,
A sunset to our fears.

Within a thought so great, our souls
Little and modest grow;
And, by its vastness awed, we learn
The art of walking slow.

The very thinking of the thought,
Without or praise or prayer,
Gives light to know, and life to do,
And marvellous strength to bear!