Man's Promises, And God's

I need no assurance from man. I need
No word of his faith. For me is made
A covenant between my God and me!
Lo, the stars write words,
Yea, and the Master's hand scribeth with
A golden quill, running a golden fluid across
The sky thus declaring His troth unto me.
Lo, I watch the silent moon write in silence,
Words that all the universe may read.
Lo, the sea tiptoes to read and returns
When the sun scribes in the morning.
Behold the Lady of God, the Universe!
Her head crowned with the suns, and in her hand
A scepter, glowing, jewelled with the white moons.
About her neck hangeth the stars, each living,
Glowing, fiery. Yea, and her shoulders
Are covered with the fleece of clouds,
Through which gleams the sun,
Touching it to glistening wonder.
And her raiment is wrought of the verdance of
The herbiage, yea, gleaming green, garlanded
With lilies and all things that burst their blooms.
From the wonder of her eyes
I behold God's image reflected; yea, and I know
God through these things, intimately.
I behold Him not with man's faith,
But with my own.
Give me no promise, oh man! I have His!