“This is the lightning, and its Lord am I!”
Yet, while they deem their horses them upbear,
Themselves the bearers of their horses are;
And when they grow aweary of their course,
They find no strength in them, no help, no force.
How otherwise they fare—how fresh, how strong,
Not of themselves, but borne of God along!
How jubilant to him they lift their head,
Till the ninth heaven shakes underneath their tread!