Unending thoughts of cindered, coiling smoke, And knot by knot entwined, earth’s incense flung, Soon spent, and served but to provoke More fire-heaped ashes, flames without a song. With shafts of bitterest cross-wood, Lord, Enkindle holy flames within this writhing dust. With lightening-strokes from Sinai’s anvil clouds Consume earth and hell’s rootworms as Thou must. […]
In cloud and rain Thy blessing, Lord, The clouds that vanish, clouds that stay, In cloud and rain Thy blessing, Lord, We cannot trace Thy promised word, Our hands hold but faith’s silver cord, Thy mists be incense as we pray, In cloud and rain, Thy blessing, Lord.