Page:Scenes and Hymns of Life.pdf/69

Thro' bright self-offering, earnest, child-like, lone,

For mounting to thy throne!
And let my soul, upborne
On wings of inner morn,

Find, in illumined secrecy, the sense

Of that blest work, its own high recompense.

The dimness melts away,
That on your glory lay,

O ye majestic watchers of the skies!

Through the dissolving veil,
Which made each aspect pale,

Your gladd'ning fires once more I recognize;

And once again a shower
Of hope, and joy, and power,

Streams on my soul from your immortal eyes.

And, if that splendour to my sobered sight
Come tremulous, with more of pensive light—
Something, though beautiful, yet deeply fraught,
With more that pierces thro' each fold of thought