In The Image Of God.

The falling of a leaf upon thy way,
The flutter of a bird along thy sky,
Thou God, to whom the ages are a day,
Ev'n such, alas! oh, ev'n such am I!

So long the time, O Lord, when I was not.
And ah, so long the time I shall not be,
So strange and small, so passing small my lot,
I cry aloud at thine immensity!

Will not thy garment brush the leaf aside?
Wilt thou, eternal, look upon the fall
Of one poor bird? Or canst thou, stooping wide
From thy great orbit, hearken to my call?

0, little child— 0, little child and fool!
My planets are my gardens, where I go.
At morn and eve, at dawning and at cool.
To see my living green and mark it grow.

I know the leaves that fall from every tree,
I know the birds that nest those gardens through,
I hear the wounded sparrow cry to me,
I note that dying flutter on the blue.

Hast thou a spot on earth to name it thine?
Does any creature lift to thee a cry?
Behold! Thyself my token and my siern;
For ev'n as thou art, so, my son, am I!