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95
L'Envoi
Now homes my Song from meadow, mount, and sea,Sure of her refuge, circling back to thee,
To seek, with folded wings, the world apart,
Silent, at rest, the shelter of thine heart.
But, could my voice in true accord repeat
The measure of thy love's melodious beat,
“The world would listen, then;” and kneel, as I
Have knelt and listened in my infancy,—
As now I kneel! Oh, stretch thine hands to bless
My toil, to pardon my unworthiness!
Could life revert to those serener rays
Where slides no more the shadow of my days,
More patient should I prove; in deed and song
More humbly set to do thy love no wrong;
More mindful of thy patience and the springs
Of sympathy that lurk in common things.
Yet must I cease from vain accusing tears,
That win no respite from relentless years;
For well I know my grief is grief to thee!
In silent homage let me bend the knee;
Immeasurably blest that present will
And living voice are thine, to bless me still!
1896.
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