As through the pathless fields of air
Wandered forth the timid dove,
So the heart, in humble prayer,
Essays to reach the throne of love.
Like her it may return unblest,
Like her again may soar,
And still return and find no rest,
No peaceful, happy shore.
But now once more she spreads her wings,
And takes a bolder flight,
And see! the olive-branch she brings,
To bless her master's sight.
And thus the heart renews its strength,
Though spent and tempest-driven,
And higher soars, and brings at length
A pledge of peace with Heaven.
["THE SPIRIT GIVETH LIFE."]
What was in the viewless wind,
Wild rushing through the oak,
Seemed to my listening, dreaming mind
As though a spirit spoke?
What is it to the murmuring stream
Doth give so sweet a song,
That on its tide my thoughts do seem
To pour themselves along?
What is it on the dizzy height,
What in each glowing star,
That speaks of things beyond the sight,
And questions what they are?
What in the rolling thunder's voice,
What in the ocean's roar,
Hears the grand chorus, "O, rejoice!"
Echo from shore to shore?