6
Take then, O Father! this the music clear,
Which in my breast I ever reverent hear,
Breathing thy glorious name;
And touch the chords within, until they rise
With purer, deeper, holier melodies,
To Thee, from whom they came!
Which in my breast I ever reverent hear,
Breathing thy glorious name;
And touch the chords within, until they rise
With purer, deeper, holier melodies,
To Thee, from whom they came!
VERSES.
With lingering step from thee I go,
To wander in a distant clime,
But oh! this heart can never know,
A moment's change from place or time.
To wander in a distant clime,
But oh! this heart can never know,
A moment's change from place or time.
Still fondly true to thee its beat,
And all beside is nothingness—
In sacred thought our spirits meet,
With an imparted tenderness.
And all beside is nothingness—
In sacred thought our spirits meet,
With an imparted tenderness.
And ever at the evening hour,
Some lovely dream of thee will rise;
And memory's sweet, consoling power
In absence calm my secret sighs.
Some lovely dream of thee will rise;
And memory's sweet, consoling power
In absence calm my secret sighs.
