Soft and holy Vesper Hour
Precursor of the night
How I love thy soothing power,
The hush, the fading light;
Raising those vain thoughts of ours
To higher, holier things
Mingling gleams from Edens bowers
With earths imaginings!
How thrilling in some grand old fane
To hear the Vesper prayer
Rise, with the organs solemn strain,
On incense-laden air;
While the last dying smiles of day
Athwart the stained glass pour
Flooding with red and golden ray
The shrine and chancel floor.
Who, at such moment, has not felt
Those yearnings, vague, yet sweet,
For Heavens joys at last to melt,
Into fruition meet;
And wished, as with rapt soul he viewed
That glorious Home above,
That earths vain thoughts would neer intrude
On visions of Gods love?
To this calm hour belongs a sway
The bright day cannot wield
Sweet as the evening stars first ray,
Transforming wood and field;
Softing gay flowers else too bright
And silvering hill and dell;
And clothing earth in that mild light
The sad heart loves so well.
