108. C. M. 6l. Conder.
Where is God?
1Beyond, beyond that boundless sea,
Above that dome of sky,
Farther than thought itself can flee,
Thy dwelling is on high;
Yet dear the awful thought to me,
That thou, my God, art nigh.
2We hear thy voice when thunders roll
Through the wide fields of air;
The waves obey thy dread control:
Yet still thou art not there.
Where shall I find Him, O my soul,
Who yet is everywhere?
3O, not in circling depth, or height,
But in the conscious breast,
Present to faith, though veiled from sight,
There does his spirit rest.
O come, thou Presence Infinite,
And make thy creatures blest.