It hath a joy for sorrow's darkest moment,
And gentle soothings for grief's sombre hour,
Unto the hopeless heart it comes with visions,—
That brighter life with strange and holy power.
It crowneth the beloved with a glory
More regal far than that of lip and brow,
The soul's expression, and the spirit gleaming,
Awake our worship, and we fondly bow.
A shining link to draw the soul to Heaven,
A foretaste of that world of purest bliss,
That bids us wonder what must be its glory,
When such revealings come to us in this.
Thrice happy they!—around whose daily pathway
The Beautiful doth come on angel wing,
And sweeping o'er the spirit's hidden treasure,
Calls from its depths a gentle echoing,—
Echoes which sound through life, and sweetly soothe
Its strange unrest with murmurs of delight,
Until they blend with the grand minstrelsy,
Whose strains, immortal, fill the world of light.
