Page:Scenes and Hymns of Life.pdf/48

36

Rise like an altar-fire! In solemn joy aspire, Deepening thy passion still, O choral strain! On thy strong rushing wind Bear up from humankind Thanks and implorings—be they not in vain!

Father, which art on high! Weak is the melody Of harp or song to reach thine awful ear, Unless the heart be there, Winging the words of prayer, With its own fervent faith or suppliant fear.

Let, then, thy spirit brood Over the multitude— Be thou amidst them through that heavenly Guest! So shall their cry have power To win from thee a shower Of healing gifts for every wounded breast.