My Faith is larger than the Hills

'Tis first He steps upon the Vane —

And then — upon the Hill —

And then abroad the World He go

To do His Golden Will —

And if His Yellow feet should miss —

The Bird would not arise —

The Flowers would slumber on their Stems —

No Bells have Paradise —

How dare I, therefore, stint a faith

On which so vast depends —

Lest Firmament should fail for me —

The Rivet in the Bands