Music, and Other Poems

I

       Thou who hast made thy dwelling fair
             With flowers beneath, above with starry lights,
       And set thine altars everywhere,—
               On mountain heights,
       In woodlands dim with many a dream,
             In valleys bright with springs,
     And on the curving capes of every stream:
     Thou who hast taken to thyself the wings
             Of morning, to abide
     Upon the secret places of the sea,
       And on far islands, where the tide
     Visits the beauty of untrodden shores,
     Waiting for worshippers to come to thee
             In thy great out-of-doors!
     To thee I turn, to thee I make my prayer,
             God of the open air.