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MUSIC.
Dear voices that long have been silenced, Come clear from their peaceable land,
Come toned with unspeakable sweetness From the Presence in which they stand.
Or is music the inarticulate Speech of the angels on earth ?
Or the voice of the Undiscovered Bringing great truths to the birth ?
O music ! thou surely art worship ;
But thou art not like praise or prayer; And words make better thanksgiving
Than thy sweet melodies are.
There is in thee another worship, An outflow of something divine;
For the voice of adoring silence, If it could be a voice, were thine.
Thou art fugitive splendors made vocal, As they glanced from that shining sea,
Where the Vision is visible music, Making music of spirits who see.
Thou, Lord ! art the Father of music;
Sweet sounds are a whisper from Thee; Thou hast made Thy creation all anthems,
Though it singeth them silently. |
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