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The world that looks so dull all day Glows bright on me at prayer,
And plans that ask no thought but then Wake up and meet me there.
All nature one full fountain seems
Of dreamy sight and sound, Which, when I kneel, breaks up its deeps,
And makes a deluge round.
Old voices murmur in my ear,
New hopes start into life, And past and future gayly blend
In one bewitching strife.
My very flesh has restless fits;
My changeful limbs conspire With all these phantoms of the mind
My inner self to tire.
I cannot pray; yet, Lord! Thou knowest
The pain it is to me To have my vainly struggling thoughts
Thus torn away from Thee.
Sweet Jesus ! teach me how to prize
These tedious hours when I, Foolish and mute before Thy Face,
In helpless worship lie.