The poem
When Wisdom tells me that the world's a speck Lost on the shoreless blue of God's To-Day... I smile, and think, 'For every man his way: The world's my ship, and I'm alone on deck!' And when he tells me that the world's a spark Lit in the whistling gloom of God's To-Night... I look within me to the edge of dark, And dream, 'The world's my field, and I'm the lark, Alone with upward song, alone with light!'