THE CHURCH ORGAN
The homeless man has heard thy voice,
Its sound doth move his memory deep;
He stares bewildered, as a man
That's shook by earthquake in his sleep.
Thy solemn voice doth bring to mind
The days that are forever gone:
Thou bringest to mind our early days,
Ere we made second homes or none.
HEIGH HO, THE RAIN
The Lark that in heaven dim
Can match a rainy hour
With his own music's shower,
Can make me sing like him—
Heigh ho! The rain!
Sing—when a Nightingale
Pours forth her own sweet soul
To hear dread thunder roll
Into a tearful tale—
Heigh ho! The rain!
