THE PRAYER IN THE WILDERNESS.
105
Yet hear!—if still I love,
Oh? still too fondly—if, for ever seen,
An earthly image comes, my heart between,
And thy calm glory, Father! thron'd above!
If still a voice is near,
(E'en while I strive these wanderings to control,)
An earthly voice, disquieting my soul
With its deep music, too intensely dear,
O Father! draw to thee
My lost affections back!—the dreaming eyes
Clear from their mist—sustain the heart that dies,
Give the worn soul once more its pinions free!
I must love on, O God!
This bosom must love on!—but let thy breath
Touch and make pure the flame that knows not death,
Bearing it up to Heaven!—Love's own abode!
