Cosmo De' Medici An Historical Tragedy: And Other Poems: By Richard Hengist Horne |
 |
 |
PRAYERS WITHOUT WORDS.
|
|
 | Cosmo De' Medici |  |
136
PRAYERS WITHOUT WORDS.
A Quartette.
Chorus.O, Spirit of the Unknown Universe!
And of this earth's fair bridal-bed and hearse,
Thou know'st how large—how small—man's soul—
His yearning life, and Death's revolving goal!
What human words can fitting be
For all we feel, hope, think, and see?
1st Voice.
When in a cloudless frosty night
We woo the Moon, so young and bright,
And know her age so many thousand years,
A prayer comes from the heart—and tears
Confuse the sight;—
But words we have not for our hopes and fears.
Chorus.
O, Spirit of the Unknown Universe, &c.
2nd Voice.
When wandering in a lonely wood,
Peopled with thronging and conflicting Shades,
All we have felt and understood
Grows into prayers—and all unuttered fades!
Chorus.
O, Spirit, &c.
137
Or, lying wide awake at night,
When Thought and Silence breed within the brain,
Thou see'st ascending crowds with pinions white!
Thou hear'st an unknown tongue in choral strain!—
Struck mute with ecstacy, thou striv'st to join the flight.
Chorus.
O, Spirit, &c.
2nd, 3rd and 4th Voices.
Sitting beneath broad cataracts,
Between the waters and the rock,
The sense of Power makes dumb thy thought's pale flock,
More than the white hell's dirge distracts!
Chorus.
O, Spirit, &c.
4th Voice.
When swimming in the solemn sea
Beneath the stars,
One soul alone with God's Infinity,
Which the brain's scope bedims and mars,—
My prayers breathe upward silently!
Chorus.
O, Spirit of the Unknown Universe,
And of this earth's fair bridal-bed and hearse,
Thou know'st how large—how small—man's soul—
His yearning life, and Death's revolving goal!
What human words can fitting be
For all we feel, hope, think, and see?
| Cosmo De' Medici | |