MUSIC

By Charles Phillips

There is a hunger in my heart to-night,

A longing in my soul, to hear

The voice of heaven o’er the noise of earth

That doth assail mine ear.

For we are exiled children of the skies,

Lone and lost wanderers from home ...

The stars come out like lamps in windows lit

Far, far from where we roam;

Like candles lit to show the long late way,

Dear kindly beacons sure and bright;

But O, the heavy journeying, and O

The silence of the night!—

The dark and vasty silences that lie

Between the going and the goal!

Will not God reach a friendly hand to lift

And land my weary soul?

Will not God speak a friendly word to me

Above the tumult and the din

Of earthly things—one little word to hush

The voice of care and sin?...

He speaks! He answers my poor faltering prayer!

He opens heaven’s lattice wide;

He bids me bathe my brow in heavenly airs

Like to a flowing tide!

He calls; He gives unto my famished soul,

Unto my eager heart, its meed:

He breathes upon me with the breath of song,

And O, my soul is freed,

And I am lifted up and up, and held

A little while—a child, to see

The beauties of my Father’s house, which shall

No more be shut from me!