So from sin’s death and gloom
New life may rise and bloom,
And that forever,
Nobler than warrior’s claim,
Is the undying fame
Of souls victorious.
UPPER AIR
(To E. P. H.)
The chariot of the dawn rolls in
And, far above all care,
As freely as the gladsome lark
My thought finds upper air.
My thought finds upper air with thee:
O fear thou not, I pray,
That such rare visions of the soul
Unfit us for the way,
Our feet must journey. ’Tis not so:
For look thou—as we soar
Is there not glory in the vale
We never saw before?
Yet was there glory in the vale
And you and I were there—
The same blue sky was over head,
The same fond, brooding care
Was over us: yet we were blind
Till Love, like him of old,
Laid on our eyes his healing hand,
And lo, we now behold
Life as it is. Yet more and more,
As time shall roll away,
I trow new glories will unfold,
We dream not of to-day.
My thought finds upper air, my love,
And thou art with me there—
The glory of the mountain heights
We’ll carry everywhere.