Sought and Found

Oh Christ, I used to say;
Help me to come to Thee;
But can I say it now,
When Christ hath come to me?

Dear  Presence in my soul,
Where thou dost find Thy rest!
Why seek Thee in the skies,
When dwelling in my breast?

The  mother seeks her child,
When wayward it doth roam;
But seeking hath no place,
When it is safe at home.

His  voice is on my lips;
His  tear bedews mine eye;
His home is in my soul;
He  cannot be more nigh.

Oh no! He is not now,
A Christ that dwells apart;
But, near as life with life
He dwells within my heart.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) IV.