The fulness of him that filleth all in all.—Ephesians 1:23.
This world has many a seeming wilderness,
And many a vacant space,
That held in happier hours a cherished form,
An unforgotten face;
And yet, in God's unmeasured universe
There is no empty place.
We see in part to-day, and darkly, too,
As through the lens of dreams;
The straightest bough beneath the shifting wave
Or bent or broken seems.
So human eyes, of everything that is,
Behold deflected gleams.
Our wisdom is a wild and narrow sea,
With hidden rock and bar;
But God's, a calm, illimitable vast,
Where no horizons are,
Wherein forever all things all-where dwell
From ocean-bed to star.
What God hath made, the Scripture saith, is good,
And evermore will be;
Before the All-creator's finished work
Both flaw and limits flee.
The endless circle, not the finite line,
Depicts eternity.
Across the cloud still gleams the cosmic bow,
Undimmed its pristine grace;
The Father's children here and everywhere
Are held in His embrace.
Throughout God's great and gracious universe
There is no empty place.
