Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/75
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SUNSET AMONG THE ALPS.
57
No; for this world is ever bright
With a pure radiance all its own;
The streams of uncreated light
Flow round it from the Eternal Throne.
With a pure radiance all its own;
The streams of uncreated light
Flow round it from the Eternal Throne.
There forms that mortals may not see,
Too glorious for the eye to trace,
And clad in peerless majesty,
Move with unutterable grace.
Too glorious for the eye to trace,
And clad in peerless majesty,
Move with unutterable grace.
In vain the philosophic eye
May seek to view the fair abode,
Or find it in the curtained sky:—
It is the Dwelling-place of God!
May seek to view the fair abode,
Or find it in the curtained sky:—
It is the Dwelling-place of God!
Sunset Among the Alps.
O Thou who hast Thine altar made
On every mountain's brow;
Whose temple is the forest's shade,
Its arch the forest's bough;
Thou hast ever listened when we prayed,
And Thou wilt hear us now.
On every mountain's brow;
Whose temple is the forest's shade,
Its arch the forest's bough;
Thou hast ever listened when we prayed,
And Thou wilt hear us now.
Full kingly is Thy royal grace
On the wide world poured forth;
From the sunny south, "in pride of place,"
To the icy-girded north,
The glorious beauty of Thy face
Doth shine upon the earth.
On the wide world poured forth;
From the sunny south, "in pride of place,"
To the icy-girded north,
The glorious beauty of Thy face
Doth shine upon the earth.
To each—to all—Thy bounty flows,
Full, boundless, deep, and free;
Thou hast flowers for earth, and stars for heaven,
And gems for the blue sea;
And for us our everlasting hills,
And hearts which dauntless be.
Full, boundless, deep, and free;
Thou hast flowers for earth, and stars for heaven,
And gems for the blue sea;
And for us our everlasting hills,
And hearts which dauntless be.
More hast Thou given, O God, yet more
Than our spirits true and bold,
And our mighty mountain sentinels,
Those watchers stern and old—
The shadow of a glorious past
Our memory doth enfold.
Than our spirits true and bold,
And our mighty mountain sentinels,
Those watchers stern and old—
The shadow of a glorious past
Our memory doth enfold.