And Thou art One--One with th' eternal hills, 
And with the flaming stars, and with the moon, 
Translucent, cold. The sentinel of noon 
That clothes the sky in robes of light and fills 
The earth with warmth, the flowering fields, the rills, 
The waving trees, the south wind's elfin rune, 
Are One with Thee. All nature is in tune 
With Thee, O Father, God--and if one wills 
To humbly walk the fragrant, leaf-strewn path 
And kneel in reverence 'neath the vaulted sky, 
Hearing the hymnals of the waving trees 
And prayers of the soughing winds--what hath 
He less of heaven in him than we, who cry, 
"God in our creeds doth dwell and not in these?"