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a word with my soul.
Night curtains thy glad room;
Shrouds thee in lonely gloom.
Shrouds thee in lonely gloom.
Build up, Soul, a lofty stair;
Build a room in healthier air.
Here there is no rest:
Better climbs to best.
Thy friends shall be the eternal stars;
They greet thee through thy casement bars
Thy homesick feet they lead
Where thou no house wilt need.
Build a room in healthier air.
Here there is no rest:
Better climbs to best.
Thy friends shall be the eternal stars;
They greet thee through thy casement bars
Thy homesick feet they lead
Where thou no house wilt need.
Learn thou, Soul of mine, past doubt,
Thou canst all things do without:
All that through thy Past
Winds and clings so fast:
Sweet pictures hidden with a sigh,
As far too perfect to put by;
And all the wealth of thought
Into thy Present wrought.
Thou canst all things do without:
All that through thy Past
Winds and clings so fast:
Sweet pictures hidden with a sigh,
As far too perfect to put by;
And all the wealth of thought
Into thy Present wrought.
From that height, Soul, thou shalt see,
In thy sky-tower, pluming thee
In thy sky-tower, pluming thee
