I listened to the birds, the boundless sea's roar, the dripping of the patient trees, and all things moving in the fields and on the motionless hills, but found no benison. For in my heart were sore unquiet tears, unbridled wishes, self-consuming fears, the subtle spears of too persuasive sin: how could I find out peace—and these within? And then Love's voice outdid that selfish din: "Where shouldst thou look but in the infinite Mind? thy peace and poise are here; wilt thou be blind? O man, I loved thee before these things were, and gave thee all —and thou didst but defer the abundant blessing, and shut tight thine eyes, nor saw the sun of My compassion rise, beheld no moon of My great tenderness, no stars of Spirit built by me to bless, no hills of grandeur in My countryside, no rocks of thought that in My hills abide.
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