Page:Scenes and Hymns of Life.pdf/105

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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,