When swarms of small distractions harry br Devotion like the gnats that fly br Till prayers are cold and customary, br Not such as please Thee, Heaven-high. br br When I forget for all my striving br Thy presence holy and august, br Be Thou not angry, but forgiving br To her Thou madest from the dust. br br Say to Thyself: This mortal being, br So deaf, so blind, so prone to sin, br Has glimpses of Me without seeing br The places where the nails went in. br br Say: Through the crusts of earth, My creature br Perceives Me, hails Me Lord above; br Rumours of the lost innocence reach her, br With full assurance of My love. br br Say: Of all marvels I have fashioned br Is none more wonderful and new br As that this thing should go impassioned br For heights beyond her mortal view. br br What though her mind should play and ponder br On small things meet for such as she! br O love! O loyalty! O wonder! br That in the darkness gropes for Me.