Poems.
19
Beneath the arch of Heaven, in solitude,
There, should we breathe our prayer and vesper hymn.
There, should we breathe our prayer and vesper hymn.
And there 's an Altar, the domestic hearth,
'Round which to daily congregate, in prayer,
Would summon all our purest feelings forth,
And earth would more a hallowed radiance wear.
'Round which to daily congregate, in prayer,
Would summon all our purest feelings forth,
And earth would more a hallowed radiance wear.
Is there no other altar we can find,
A constant offering on the shrine to raise,
No innate power our feelings there to bind,
And teach our heart to sing our Maker's praise
A constant offering on the shrine to raise,
No innate power our feelings there to bind,
And teach our heart to sing our Maker's praise
Within our breasts we feel another fane,
From whence the incense of our warmest love
Should isssue forth free from all earthly stain,
To God our Father, in the realms above.
From whence the incense of our warmest love
Should isssue forth free from all earthly stain,
To God our Father, in the realms above.
IMMORTALITY.
There blooms in every human breast,
An amaranthine flower,
That cheers us on our pilgrimage,
However dark the hour.
An amaranthine flower,
That cheers us on our pilgrimage,
However dark the hour.
