Coming joys plead ye,—
Then is the Master near,
Then is He here!
IV. CHORUS OF SPIRITS.
VANISH, dark clouds on high,
Offspring of night!
Let a more radiant beam
Through the blue ether gleam,
Charming the sight!
Would the dark clouds on high
Melt into air!
Stars glimmer tenderly,
Planets more fair
Shed their soft light.
Spirits of heav'nly birth,
Fairer than sons of earth,
Quivering emotions true
Hover above;
Yearning affections, too,
In their train move.
See how the spirit-band,
By the soft breezes fann'd,
Covers the smiling land,—
Covers the leafy grove,
Where happy lovers rove,
Deep in a dream of love,
True love that never dies!
Bowers on bowers rise,