| God's World |
| O WORLD, I cannot hold thee close enough! | |
| Thy winds, thy wide grey skies! | |
| Thy mists that roll and rise! | |
| Thy woods, this autumn day, that ache and sag | |
| And all but cry with colour! That gaunt crag | 5 |
| To crush! To lift the lean of that black bluff! | |
| World, World, I cannot get thee close enough! | |
| Long have I known a glory in it all, | |
| But never knew I this; | |
| Here such a passion is | 10 |
| As stretcheth me apart. Lord, I do fear | |
| Thou'st made the world too beautiful this year. | |
| My soul is all but out of me,—let fall No burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call. | |
(By the way, all the deity-worship in this poem is totally pagan, imo)
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