And faintly on the world’s dull ear—
Though clamorous voices cry it down,
To God it rises, pure and clear!
It cometh as a service glad—
A music all as full and sweet,
As though the stars hymned forth their joy,
And rolled their anthems to His feet.
When, like the Grecian youth, thou see’st
The midnight tempests gather round—
When storm-clouds seem to flood the heavens,