The clouds are golden, yet a placid moon
Slips out among them, calm and pale of face.
O soul of mine, breathe in this holy thing
That steeps the hills down to the dreaming sea;
This endless prayer, this silent ecstacy,
That like a great white bird on sunlit wing
Hovers above the world; ’tis given thee
To merge thyself in this harmonious whole,
And be content, seeking no higher goal;
The earth is God’s, to-day eternity!