When in the solemn stillness of the night

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.