O heavenly child, sweet be thy sleep
Among the saintly dead.
What a sad, sad thing, is the form of Love
When the beautiful soul has fled.
Among the saintly dead.
What a sad, sad thing, is the form of Love
When the beautiful soul has fled.
The Heart of the Storm
There's a beckoning hand in the lightening's flash,
A voice from the thundering skies;
That speaks unto earth-bound spirit. "Come;
Arise, oh soul, arise."
A voice from the thundering skies;
That speaks unto earth-bound spirit. "Come;
Arise, oh soul, arise."
"Mount up on the wings of the rising wind,
Leave sordid care for an hour."
And nestled close to the heart of the storm
I drink of its life and power.
Leave sordid care for an hour."
And nestled close to the heart of the storm
I drink of its life and power.
I thrill with each bound of its mighty pulse,
Till the soul, rejoiced and strong,
With an onward sweep is returned to earth,
And breaks into glad new song.
Till the soul, rejoiced and strong,
With an onward sweep is returned to earth,
And breaks into glad new song.
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