Poems (Chitwood)/The Hour of Release
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THE HOUR OF RELEASE.
The stars are thick in the skies to-night;
I never saw them so bright before,—
They seem like barques of silver white
Dropped close by the heavenly shore.
The breezes embrace the dewy flowers—
I never heard winds with such lips of song;
My heart sings out to the quiet hours,
As their soft wings glide along.
I never saw them so bright before,—
They seem like barques of silver white
Dropped close by the heavenly shore.
The breezes embrace the dewy flowers—
I never heard winds with such lips of song;
My heart sings out to the quiet hours,
As their soft wings glide along.
The skies—oh! what is there beaming there?
They always seemed shadowed and dim before;
To-night the seraphs with golden hair
Stand close to the earthly shore;
Anon in my listening ear there floats
A faint, faint music, so soft and clear,
I know I am listening to the notes
That the newly-ransomed hear.
They always seemed shadowed and dim before;
To-night the seraphs with golden hair
Stand close to the earthly shore;
Anon in my listening ear there floats
A faint, faint music, so soft and clear,
I know I am listening to the notes
That the newly-ransomed hear.