Charles A. Lazenby

STRIVING, I sought Myself to find

Through fluent Time’s extended sweep;

I watched the births of Gods and Men,

The Sowing that we reap.

I saw the first gigantic Form

Come forth the blackened Void;

I heard the Roar of the Falling Years

And lived in the great Sauroid.

Far-pinnacled on heights of Flame,

I watched the Suns take fire—

I was the music in the Hand

That played the Cosmic Lyre.

I moved in the Flux of the flowing Years

Through Rock, and Plant, and Beast.

I entered into the Son of Man,

For I saw His Star in the East.

I sped in worship to His shrine,

That Manger, cradled low;

With Him I suffered on the Cross,

And was in Him the Woe.

I rise triumphant from the Dead,

On every Easter Morn;

In Ecstasies Nirvana reach,

And with the Gods am born.

Jehovah on His silver Throne,

Ishvara’s boundless Form;

The Silent Braman in the Heart

I name, and clothe, and warm.

I am the Word that was with God,

Before the Birth of Time;

I am the Portal and the Path,

The Lowly and Sublime.

I am the end of Finite Things,

The Infinite in Scope;

Before the Gods that were, I am,

I am the prisoned Hope.

By Me alone you reach to God,

You serve not Me and Pelf;

All Happiness abides in Me

For lo! I am Yourself.