Page:Poems Hale.djvu/32

When, kneeling at the shrine of prayer,
 We breathe our vows from hearts sincere,
A sacred calm dispels our care,
 Our spirits feel that "God is here."

When called around the bed of death,
 To part with friends beloved and dear,
O! as we watch the fleeting breath,
 Can we not trust that "God is here?"

We mingle dist with kindred dust:
 Devotion checks the starting tear:
Our grief is changed to filial trust:
 We feel, indeed, that "God is here."

And when to heaven we wing our flight,
 And view our gracious Maker near,
Our souls in realms of endless light,
 Shall say with rapture, "God is here."