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His will he thinks his own, is shaped in her forge. Obedient to World-Nature's dumb control, Driven by his own formidable Power, His chosen partner in a titan game, Her will he has made the master of his fate, Her whim the dispenser of his pleasure and pain; He has sold himself into her regal power For any blow or boon that she may choose: Even in what is suffering to our sense, He feels the sweetness of her mastering touch, In all experience meets her blissful hands; On his heart he bears the happiness of her tread And the surprise of her arrival's joy In each event and every moment's chance. All she can do is marvellous in his sight: He revels in her, a swimmer in her sea, A tireless amateur of her world-delight, He rejoices in her every thought and act And gives consent to all that she can wish; Whatever she desires he wills to be: The Spirit, the innumerable One, He has left behind his lone eternity, He is an endless birth in endless Time, Her finite's multitude in an infinite Space. The master of existence lurks in us And plays at hide-and-seek with his own Force; In Nature's instrument loiters secret God. The Immanent lives in man as in his house; He has made the universe his pastime's field, A vast gymnasium of his works of might. All-knowing he accepts our darkened state, Divine, wears shapes of animal or man; Eternal, he assents to Fate and Time, Immortal, dallies with mortality. The All-Conscious ventured into Ignorance, 
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