305. ‘Found of them that sought Him not’

I WILL arise and to my Father go;

This very hour the journey is begun.

I start to reach the blissful goal, and, lo,

My spirit at one bound her race has run.

For seeking God and finding Him are one.

He feeds the rillets that towards Him flow.

It is the Father Who first seeks the son,

And moves all heavenward movement, swift or slow.

I dare not pride myself on finding Him.

I dare not dream a single step was mine.

His was the vigour in the palsied limb—

His the electric fire along the line—

When drowning, His the untaught power to swim

Float o’er the surge, and grasp the rock divine.