Unnumbered Gods May Unremembered Die; A Thousand Creeds May Perish And Pass By; Yet Do I Lift Mine Eyes To One On High. Unnamed Be He From Whom Creation Came; There Is No Word Whereby To Speak His Name But Petty Men Have Mouthed It Into Shame. I Lift Mine Eyes, And With A River'S Force My Love'S Full Tide Goes Sweeping On Its Course To That Supreme And All-Embracing Source. Then Back Through All Those Thirsting Channels Roll The Mighty Billows Of The Over Soul. And I Am He, The Portion And The Whole. As Little Streams Before The Flood-Tide Flee, As Rivers Vanish To Become The Sea, The I Exists No More, For I Am He,