C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Frederick Lucian Hosmer (1840–1929)

“Oh that I knew where I might find Him.”

GO not, my soul, in search of Him:

Thou wilt not find Him there,—

Or in the depths of shadow dim,

Or heights of upper air.

For not in far-off realms of space

The Spirit hath its throne;

In every heart it findeth place

And waiteth to be known.

Thought answereth alone to thought,

And soul with soul hath kin;

The outward God he findeth not,

Who finds not God within.

And if the vision come to thee

Revealed by inward sign,

Earth will be full of Deity

And with his glory shine!

Thou shalt not want for company,

Nor pitch thy tent alone;

The indwelling God will go with thee,

And show thee of his own.

Oh gift of gifts, oh grace of grace,

That God should condescend

To make thy heart his dwelling-place,

And be thy daily Friend!

Then go not thou in search of him,

But to thyself repair;

Wait thou within the silence dim,

And thou shalt find him there.