2 JANUARY 1926, Page 23

POETRY

HOW INFINITE ARE THY WAYS

I THOUGHT the night without a sound was falling ;

But standing still, No stem or leaf I stirred, And soon in the hedge a cricket chirred ; A robin filled a whole silence with calling ; An owl went hovering by, Hunting the spacious twilight with 'tremulous cry ; A cock, boasting his might, Shouted a loud good-night, Like a hearty fellow and bold ; A heifer lowed on the lone-tree hill, A lamb bleated out of the fold.

I had not known, were I not still, How infinite are Thy ways.

I wondered what Thy life could be, 0 Thou unknown Immensity : Voice after voice, and every voice was Thine.

So I stood wondering, Until a child began to sing, Going late home, awed by the gathering haze I said : Her voice, at one with mine,

Is also Thine ; But compassing Thy many voices now, I.°, I, somehow, Am Thou.

W. FORCE STEAD.