112. The Order of Pure Intuition

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!