Impressions: A Book of Verse/The End
THE END
THE moon through trackless forests finds a way,
The ocean's pulses swell beneath its sway,
Whom sacred love hath joined can never part,
Heart of my heart.
The waves that gently lap the sands at eve,
The winds that sobbing through the forest grieve,
They are thy messengers of peace or strife,
Life of my life.
All high endeavor draws me close to thee,
Space cannot dominate the spirit free,
Thy love, my part, makes me know God, the whole
Soul of my soul.