 | New songs of innocence |  |
58
OUR FORTRESS.
Within our castle, maiden mine,
We dwell secure, and fear no foe;
Our ramparts are a mountain-line,
A guardian river glides below.
Here from the troublous world apart,
And raised above its common care,
I dream of heaven with you, my heart,
And soar from earth in mountain-air.
We dwell secure, and fear no foe;
Our ramparts are a mountain-line,
A guardian river glides below.
Here from the troublous world apart,
And raised above its common care,
I dream of heaven with you, my heart,
And soar from earth in mountain-air.
As o'er our castle wall we lean
To mark the light of morn or eve
Inform anew the distant scene—
Ascends the voice of them that grieve.
A wail from out the world's unrest
Assails our high ethereal calm;
It stirs our peaceful mountain-nest
That knew no utterance save a psalm.
To mark the light of morn or eve
Inform anew the distant scene—
Ascends the voice of them that grieve.
A wail from out the world's unrest
Assails our high ethereal calm;
It stirs our peaceful mountain-nest
That knew no utterance save a psalm.
It lingers ever in mine ear;
It presses on me when I pray;
The sound of mirth I may not hear
Till that sad murmur dies away.
For why should we be good and glad
Within our fortress on the height,
When there are souls ashamed and sad,
Who cannot rest by day or night?
It presses on me when I pray;
The sound of mirth I may not hear
Till that sad murmur dies away.
For why should we be good and glad
Within our fortress on the height,
When there are souls ashamed and sad,
Who cannot rest by day or night?
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Nay, from our castle will we go
With sympathy and succour both,
Down through the sorrowing vales below,
To aid the meanest nothing loath.
O'er all the world's wide battlefield
Let all the wounded be our care,
And all the weak who fain would yield
Our confidence and courage share.
With sympathy and succour both,
Down through the sorrowing vales below,
To aid the meanest nothing loath.
O'er all the world's wide battlefield
Let all the wounded be our care,
And all the weak who fain would yield
Our confidence and courage share.
Let no distrust of men be ours,
Nor any feeble woman's fear;
Our guidance is a higher Power's,
Our goal nor gain nor glory here.
More space wherein to live and grow
The wakened soul within demands;
But the direction of its flow
We leave in God our Father's hands.
Nor any feeble woman's fear;
Our guidance is a higher Power's,
Our goal nor gain nor glory here.
More space wherein to live and grow
The wakened soul within demands;
But the direction of its flow
We leave in God our Father's hands.
Still to our fortress of the soul
At eventide may we retire,
To gain a surer self-control,
To feed again our secret fire.
Still from our topmost turret high
Shall wave our banner fair unfurled—
‘For truth and right, my girl and I’—
My girl and I against the world!
At eventide may we retire,
To gain a surer self-control,
To feed again our secret fire.
Still from our topmost turret high
Shall wave our banner fair unfurled—
‘For truth and right, my girl and I’—
My girl and I against the world!
| New songs of innocence | |