When in the solemn stillness of the night,
My musing soul is filled with love of thee,
I seem to stand upon the world’s last height,
The flaming rampart of all things that be.
And as I pause upon that lonely verge
And plunge my gaze into the gulf below,
I see the cosmic billows sweep and surge
From death to life, with endless ebb and flow.
But howsoever deep my soul may drink
Of light and life, and wonder and desire, -
Love still remains, - the love that thou hast waked –
Its deeps unfathomed and its thirst unslaked.