Like the Muezzin's evening call to prayer;
"Praise God the Lord!" and hark! from all around
A thousand voices answer to the sound:
From every clift, and crag, and ledge, and linn,
The notes of worship and of praise begin.
"Praise God the Lord!" the echoes catch the strain,
And far and near repeat the sound again;
They wake it in the wild and in the wood,
Through all the shades of that far solitude:
Bearing it on, o'er valley and ravine,