1033
4s & 6s, or C. M.
Canticles 4:16.
The spring-tide hour
Brings leaf and flower,
With songs of life and love;
And many a lay
Wears out the day
In many a leafy grove.
Bird, flower, and tree,
Seem to agree
Their choicest gifts to bring;
But this poor heart
Bears not its part,
In it there is no spring.
2 Dews fall apace,
The dews of grace,
Upon this soul of sin;
And love divine
Delights to shine
Upon the waste within:
Yet year by year,
Fruits, flowers, appear,
And birds their praises sing;
But this poor heart
Bears not its part,
Its winter has no spring.
3 Lord, let thy love,
Fresh from above,
Soft as the south-wind blow!
Call forth its bloom,
Wake its perfume,
And bid its spices flow!
And when thy voice
Makes earth rejoice,
And the hills laugh and sing,
Lord! make this heart
To bear its part,
And join the praise of spring!
J. S. B. Monsell.