WHEN YOU called me I was asleep under the shadows of my walls and I did not hear you. Then you struck me with your own hands and wakened me in tears. I started up to see that the sun had risen, that the floodtide had brought the call of the deep, and my boat was ready rocking on the dancing water.
THY GIFTS TO us mortals fulfil all our needs and yet run back to thee undiminished. The river has its everyday work to do and hastens through fields and hamlets; yet its incessant stream winds towards the washing of thy feet. The flower sweetens the air with its perfume; yet its last service is to offer itself to thee. Thy worship does not impoverish the world. From the words of the poet men take what meanings please them; yet their last meaning points to thee.