 | Songs of two centuries |  |
142
TO FANNY CROSBY.
Blind Hymn-Poet, Aged Eighty.
Song-bird in the dark,
Adding each day unto our lyric treasure,
And rising, like the lark,
Nearer to heaven for each ecstatic measure:
Adding each day unto our lyric treasure,
And rising, like the lark,
Nearer to heaven for each ecstatic measure:
Sing on, O rich, clear voice,
'Mid the world's clamor for the world's possession;
Thou art the angels' choice
To give their sweetest anthems earth-expression!
'Mid the world's clamor for the world's possession;
Thou art the angels' choice
To give their sweetest anthems earth-expression!
Love on, O gentle heart,
To all mankind with stately pureness clinging;
The followers of thy art,
With lips devout caress thee in their singing!
To all mankind with stately pureness clinging;
The followers of thy art,
With lips devout caress thee in their singing!
In myriad temples grand,
Through whose broad aisles the organ-tones are pealing,
Thy words walk hand in hand
With truths the rich-bound Bible is revealing.
Through whose broad aisles the organ-tones are pealing,
Thy words walk hand in hand
With truths the rich-bound Bible is revealing.
By many a cottage-door,
Where Faith and Love with Poverty are dwelling,
Thy sweet words, o'er and o'er,
The mother to her new-found babe is telling.
Where Faith and Love with Poverty are dwelling,
Thy sweet words, o'er and o'er,
The mother to her new-found babe is telling.
Where Arctic snow-storms sweep,
Where tropic ghosts a hand to death are reaching,
Thy jewelled words still keep
Their tryst with God, and aid His solemn teaching.
Where tropic ghosts a hand to death are reaching,
Thy jewelled words still keep
Their tryst with God, and aid His solemn teaching.
143
Song-bird in the light,
Thou shalt see splendors when this world's have faded!
E'en now thy path is bright
With stars in heaven whose kindling thou hast aided.
Thou shalt see splendors when this world's have faded!
E'en now thy path is bright
With stars in heaven whose kindling thou hast aided.
Yearn on, O lofty soul,
Though voices from the song-land intercede thee!
Spurn not this earth's control
Yet many years: our suffering mortals need thee.
Though voices from the song-land intercede thee!
Spurn not this earth's control
Yet many years: our suffering mortals need thee.
But when at last The King
Shall bid thy friends above to cease their waiting,
The angels, sure, will sing,
To welcome thee, some hymn of thy creating.
Shall bid thy friends above to cease their waiting,
The angels, sure, will sing,
To welcome thee, some hymn of thy creating.
And Christ will be thy guide,
Confirming, step by step, his wondrous story;
And seek the Father's side,
And say, “She taught the world to sing thy glory.”
Confirming, step by step, his wondrous story;
And seek the Father's side,
And say, “She taught the world to sing thy glory.”
| Songs of two centuries | |