The True

I envy the tree-tops that shake so high In winds that fill them full of heavenly airs; I envy every little cloud that shares With unseen angels evening in the sky; I envy most the youngest stars that lie Sky-nested, and the loving heaven that bears, And night that makes strong worlds of them unawares; And all God's other beautiful and nigh! Nay, nay, I envy not! And these are dreams, Fancies and images of real heaven! My longings, all my longing prayers are given For that which is, and not for that which seems. Draw me, O Lord, to thy true heaven above, The Heaven of thy Thought, thy Rest, thy Love.