HAIL, sacred Order of eternal Truth!
That deep within the soul,
In axiomatic majesty sublime,
One undivided whole,—

Up from the underdepth unsearchable
Of primal Being springs,
An inner world of thought, co-ordinate
With that of outward things!

Hail, Intuition pure! whose essences
The central core supply
Of conscience, language, science, certitude,
Art, beauty, harmony!

Great God! I thank Thy majesty supreme,
Whose all-creative grace
Not in the sentient faculties alone
Has laid my reason’s base;

Not in abstractions thin by slow degrees
From grosser forms refin’d;
Not in tradition, nor the broad consent
Of conscious humankind;—

But in th’ essential Presence of Thyself,
Within the soul’s abyss;
Thyself, alike of her intelligence
The fount, as of her bliss;

Thyself, by nurture, meditation, grace,
Reflexively reveal’d;
Yet ever acting on the springs of thought,
E’en when from thought conceal’d!