Evening Songs
XX
Once as I through the golden stars
Up heavenward was gazing,
It seemed to me Thou wert a saint
And I an angel blazing.
Then I a harp took to my hand
And songs to Thee I chanted
Until the saints’ songs died away
And all eyes to us slanted.
And God the Father for a while
Himself ceased in creation.
And down His cheek there seemed to roll
A diamond of compassion.
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