With hearts o'erflowing with a holy joy,
Too still, too deep for utterance. We look
On thy bright world, on all thy glorious works,
Then upward gaze toward the unfathomed depths
Of thy pure, peaceful heaven; and, while we gaze
Our eyes are dim with tears, yet not of grief—
Of bliss unspeakable; our lips are mute,-
Words are not needed, for Thou knowest, Lord,
The love and joy our thankful hearts would tell,
But find not words to speak,-Thou knowest, Lord,
The thankfulness that thrills our very souls,
That such things are, that such bright scenes as these
Thy love hath given to gladden mortal eyes,
And make man dream of heaven,-Thou knowest, Lord.
And now, on every side, from land and sea,
From all Thy mighty universe, goes up
One universal prayer, one hymn of praise,
To Thee, O great Creator, God of life,
Voiceless, yet not unheard. And now we kneel,
And now our hearts' unuttered prayer ascends,
Mingled with Nature's mightier orisons,
To Thee, O King of Kings, that Thou, this day,
Wouldst keep us from all ill,—that this bright morn
May have as bright a noon, as calm an eve;
Or, if storms need must come, that Thou wouldst be
Our shelter from the tempest, and our guide
Into the quiet haven. We are Thine;
Into Thy hands we now commit ourselves,
For joy or sorrow, Father, as Thou wilt—
Only abide Thou with us through this day,
And through our life's long day, so shall our hearts
Be calm, untroubled as Thine ocean depths,
Pure as Thine azure sky; and when, at length,
The noon hath followed on our life's bright morn,
And, in its turn, hath faded from our path,
And life's calm evening, with its solemn hush,
Steals o'er our spirits, we shall then be found
Ready to lay us down, in faith and hope,
To sleep the last long sleep, ne'er to awake
Until our eyes we open in that land
That hath no night, that needs no light of sun,
Or moon, or stars, for Thou, O Lord our God,
Thou art the light thereof; no darkness reigns
Where Thou dost shew the brightness of Thy face
In everlasting day.
THOU hast left me, I am lonely,
Lonelier than words can tell;
Though my lone heart echoeth ever
One sad word, "Farewell! Farewell!"
Then a sudden hope comes o'er me,
And I cry, "It cannot be :
No, 'tis but a fearful vision;
I shall wake and be with thee."
But in vain Time speedeth onward,
In its swift, relentless flight,
And the dawning cometh never
To my spirit's cheerless night.
For I seek in vain the loved one,
The dear friend of bygone years, And I gaze out through the darkness, Ever, 'mid the blinding tears.
Through the silent night I call thee, In my spirit's yearning pain;
But the echo only answereth,
And thou comest not again.
And I now am very lonely,
Lonelier than words can tell,
While my sad heart murmureth ever, "Dearest, dearest, fare thee well!"
Ir is the hour of sunset, in that land
Of glorious sunsets, the fair land of Greece;
And ne'er has mortal eye beheld, I ween,
A scene of more unearthly loveliness
Than that we gaze on now. That Eastern sun,
So gorgeous in its noontide splendour, shines
Now with a softened radiance, lovelier far
Than its fierce mid-day glare. O'er the still earth
Soft evening shadows flit, broken, at times,
By gleams of sunlight; see, dark olive groves
Light up to sudden brilliance at their touch;
While on the mountain-side, the purple shades
Lie sleeping, interspersed with sunny spots
Of brightness, where, in the soft evening light,
The starry blossoms of the myrtle gleam
'Mid their dark foliage. At the mountain's foot
A little stream murmurs its evensong,
As it glides onward to its distant bourne,
The blue Ægean; whose bright waters glance
In the far distance, flashing into light
With sudden brilliancy, and then, anon,
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