61
LINES.
When I forget the Sacred Power,
Which guards my life, each passing hour
When I can gaze on flower and tree,
Yet own no blissful sympathy
With nature's charm—when I can look
Upon the heaven's wide-opened book,
And see the stars in order move,
Yet feel no thrill of holy love—
When all the fairest, brightest, best
Shall pass my soul, unloved, unblest,
Even as a dream remembered not—
Then—not till then—be Thou forgot!
Which guards my life, each passing hour
When I can gaze on flower and tree,
Yet own no blissful sympathy
With nature's charm—when I can look
Upon the heaven's wide-opened book,
And see the stars in order move,
Yet feel no thrill of holy love—
When all the fairest, brightest, best
Shall pass my soul, unloved, unblest,
Even as a dream remembered not—
Then—not till then—be Thou forgot!
