High and glorious, then, the part
For thine eye, and hand, and heart!
When thy feet, on Jordan’s side,
Feel the waters, as they glide,
Thou the Son of God shalt see,
Come to be baptized of thee—
Hear him named, and see the Dove
Resting on him from above!
[HYMN TO SOLITUDE.]
O solitude, holy and calm!
From tumult and crowds breaking free,
I fly, sick and sad, for the balm
I find given only by thee.
Too oft from thy peace I depart,
Kind guardian, friend of my soul,—
And then bring an earth-wounded heart
For thee to bind up and make whole.
My spirit, now worn and oppressed,
Her wings in thy bosom hath furled,
To sink, as a bird in its nest,
Away from a cold, faithless world!
Alarmed at the shade and the chill,
That o’er me its visions have cast,
I here would lie lowly and still,
Till sorrow’s dark night hours are past.
And then, from the dust may I rise,
To mount, as the lark from her sod;
And sing, as the morn of my skies
Appears in the smile of my God.
O solitude, sacred and sweet;
Whilst thus in thy bosom I lie,
Earth’s baubles are under my feet—
My heart and its treasure, on high.