I COME in the little things, | |
Saith the Lord: | |
Not borne on morning wings | |
Of majesty, but I have set My Feet | |
Amidst the delicate and bladed wheat | 5 |
That springs triumphant in the furrowed sod. | |
There do I dwell, in weakness and in power; | |
Not broken or divided, saith our God! | |
In your strait garden plot I come to flower: | |
About your porch My Vine | 10 |
Meek, fruitful, doth entwine; | |
Waits, at the threshold, Loves appointed hour. | |
|
I come in the little things, | |
Saith the Lord: | |
Yea! on the glancing wings | 15 |
Of eager birds, the softly pattering feet | |
Of furred and gentle beasts, I come to meet | |
Your hard and wayward heart. In brown bright eyes | |
That peep from out the brake, I stand confest. | |
On every nest | 20 |
Where feathery Patience is content to brood | |
And leaves her pleasure for the high emprize | |
Of motherhood | |
There doth My Godhead rest. | |
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I come in the little things, | 25 |
Saith the Lord: | |
My starry wings | |
I do forsake, | |
Loves highway of humility to take: | |
Meekly I fit My stature to your need. | 30 |
In beggars part | |
About your gates I shall not cease to plead | |
As man, to speak with man | |
Till by such art | |
I shall achieve My Immemorial Plan, | 35 |
Pass the low lintel of the human heart. | |