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darkened hours.
Yet was my nature formed to feel
The gladness and the grief of life,
To thrill at Freedom's name, and joy
In all her brave and holy strife;
The gladness and the grief of life,
To thrill at Freedom's name, and joy
In all her brave and holy strife;
To tremble with the perfect sense
Of all things lovely or sublime,—
The glory of the midnight heaven,
The beauty of the morning time.
Of all things lovely or sublime,—
The glory of the midnight heaven,
The beauty of the morning time.
God-written thoughts are in my heart.
And deep within my being lie
Eternal truths and glorious hopes,
Which I must speak before I die.
And deep within my being lie
Eternal truths and glorious hopes,
Which I must speak before I die.
Who shall restore the early faith,
The fresh, strong heart, the utterance bold?
Ah, when may be this weary weight
From off my groaning spirit rolled?
The fresh, strong heart, the utterance bold?
Ah, when may be this weary weight
From off my groaning spirit rolled?
To thee, I turn, before whose throne
No earnest suppliant bows in vain;
My spirit's faint and lonely cry
Thou wilt not in thy might disdain.
No earnest suppliant bows in vain;
My spirit's faint and lonely cry
Thou wilt not in thy might disdain.
