Page:Scenes and Hymns of Life.pdf/105

And that the tender shadowing I behold,
    The tracery veining every leaf and flower,
Of glories cast in more consummate mould,
    No longer vassals to the changeful hour;
That life's last roses to my thoughts can bring
Rich visions of imperishable spring:
I bless thee, O my God!

Yes! the young vernal voices in the skies
    Woo me not back, but, wandering past mine ear,
Seem heralds of th' eternal melodies,
    The spirit-music, imperturb'd and clear;
The full of soul, yet passionate no more—
Let me too, joining those pure strains, adore!
I bless thee, O my God!

Now aid, sustain me still!—to thee I come,
    Make thou my dwelling where thy children are!
And for the hope of that immortal home,
    And for thy Son, the bright and morning star,