At Sunset | ||
98
WORDSWORTH
Bark of the unseen haven,
Mind of unearthly mood,
Like to the prophet's raven,
Thou bringest me heavenly food;
Or like some mild dove winging
Its way from cloudless skies,
Celestial odors bringing,
And in its glad soul singing
The songs of paradise.
Mind of unearthly mood,
Like to the prophet's raven,
Thou bringest me heavenly food;
Or like some mild dove winging
Its way from cloudless skies,
Celestial odors bringing,
And in its glad soul singing
The songs of paradise.
Surely thou hast been nearer
The bounds of day and night—
Thy vision has been clearer,
And loftier thy flight,
And thou to God art dearer
Than many men of might.
Speak! for to thee we listen
As never to bard before,
And faded eyes shall glisten
That thought to be bright no more.
The bounds of day and night—
Thy vision has been clearer,
And loftier thy flight,
And thou to God art dearer
Than many men of might.
Speak! for to thee we listen
As never to bard before,
And faded eyes shall glisten
That thought to be bright no more.
Oh, tell us of yonder heaven,
And the world that lies within;
Tell of the happy spirits
To whom we are near of kin;
Tell of the songs of rapture,
Of the stars that never set;
Do the angels call us brothers—
Does our Father love us yet?
And the world that lies within;
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To whom we are near of kin;
Tell of the songs of rapture,
Of the stars that never set;
Do the angels call us brothers—
Does our Father love us yet?
Speak, for our souls are thirsting
For the light of righteousness;
Speak, for our bosoms are bursting
With a desolate loneliness;
Our hearts are worn and weary,
Our robes are travel-soiled—
For through a desert dreary
Our wandering feet have toiled.
For the light of righteousness;
Speak, for our bosoms are bursting
With a desolate loneliness;
Our hearts are worn and weary,
Our robes are travel-soiled—
For through a desert dreary
Our wandering feet have toiled.
Those to whom life looks brighter
May ask an earthlier strain:
A gayer spell and a lighter
Shall hold them in its chain;
But to those who have drunk deepest
Of the cup of joy and grief,
The tuneful tears thou weepest
Do minister relief.
May ask an earthlier strain:
A gayer spell and a lighter
Shall hold them in its chain;
But to those who have drunk deepest
Of the cup of joy and grief,
The tuneful tears thou weepest
Do minister relief.
Speak, for the earth is throbbing
With a wild sense of pain;
The wintry winds are sobbing
The requiem of the slain;
Dimly our lamps are burning,
And gladly we list to thee,
With a strange and mystic yearning
Toward the home where we would be:
Turn from the rhyme of weary Time,
And sing of Eternity!
With a wild sense of pain;
The wintry winds are sobbing
The requiem of the slain;
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And gladly we list to thee,
With a strange and mystic yearning
Toward the home where we would be:
Turn from the rhyme of weary Time,
And sing of Eternity!
Tell of the sacred mountains
Where prophets in prayer have kneeled;
Tell of the glorious fountains
That soon shall be unsealed;
Tell of the quiet regions
Where those we love are fled;
Tell of the angel legions
That guard the blessèd dead!
Where prophets in prayer have kneeled;
Tell of the glorious fountains
That soon shall be unsealed;
Tell of the quiet regions
Where those we love are fled;
Tell of the angel legions
That guard the blessèd dead!
Tell of the sea of glass,
And of the icy river;
To those who its waves must pass
Thy message of love deliver.
Strike, strike thy harp of many lays,
And we will join the song of praise
To Him that sitteth upon the throne
Of life and love forever.
And of the icy river;
To those who its waves must pass
Thy message of love deliver.
Strike, strike thy harp of many lays,
And we will join the song of praise
To Him that sitteth upon the throne
Of life and love forever.
Written many years ago.
At Sunset | ||