A spirit voice.
Whither was it that my spirit wended
When from thee my fleeting shadow moved?
Is not now each earthly conflict ended?
Say,-have I not lived,-have
I not loved?
Art thou for the nightingales inquiring
Who entranced thee in the early year
With their melody so joy-inspiring?
Only whilst they loved they lingered here.
Is the lost one lost to me forever?
Trust me, with him joyfully
I stray
There, where naught united souls
can sever,
And where every tear is wiped
away.
And thou, too, wilt find us in yon
heaven,
When thy love with our love
can compare;
There my father dwells, his sins
forgiven,-
Murder foul can never reach
him there.
And he feels that him no vision
cheated
When he gazed upon the stars
on high;
For as each one metes, to him tis
meted;
Who believes it, hath the
Holy nigh.
Faith is kept in those blest regions
yonder
With the feelings true that
neer decay.
Venture thou to dream, then, and
to wander
Noblest thoughts oft lie in
childlike play.
© e-libr.com
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