Page:Scenes and Hymns of Life.pdf/47

The cross recalls thee—Lo! the blessed cross!
High o'er the banners and the crests of earth,
Fixed in its meek and still supremacy!
And lo ! the throng of beating human hearts,
With all their secret scrolls of buried grief,
All their full treasures of immortal hope,
Gathered before their God!—Hark! how the flood
Of the rich organ harmony bears up
Their voice on its high waves!—a mighty burst!
A forest-sounding music!—every tone
Which the blasts call forth with their harping wings
From gulfs of tossing foliage there is blent:
And the old minster—forest-like itself—
With its long avenues of pillared shade,
Seems quivering all with spirit, as that strain
O'erflows its dim recesses, leaving not
One tomb unthrilled by the strong sympathy
Answering the electric notes.—Join, join, my soul!
In thine own lowly, trembling consciousness,
And thine own solitude, the glorious hymn.