Poetry: Hymn Of The City

Not in the eolitude Alone, may Man commune wilh hcavcn. Only in savage wood And eunny vale, the present Deity; Or only liear hts voice Where the wjnds whisper and t ie wavcs j joice. Even here do I behold Thy steps, Almighly - h?re amidst the crowds Through the great city rolled, VVith everlaeting murmur, deep nnd loud - Chokiug the woys thut wind 'Mongöt the proud piles, the work of human kind.Thy golden smishine comes From Ihe round heaven, nnd on tbeir dwelling lies, And litrlïls tlicir inner homes - Foc them thou fill'et wiih air the unbounded tkies, And piVst tbem stores Of Occan, and the harvest of 'üs shores. Thy spirit 8 nround, Qtiickening tho rcckless mass that sweeps along; And the eterna! sound - Voiccs and footfalls of the nnmberlesg throng, I.ike the resotindïng sea. Or the riny tempest, speafcs of Thee. And when the bonr of rest Comes, like u calm upon tiie mid-Fea brine, Hushing its billowy brcast - The quietof that moment, too, is tbine: If brenthes of hhi .who keeps The vast and helpkws city while it nlecps.