Evening Songs (1920)/46
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XLVI
Thou hast laid Thy hand on my head,
My temples proud caressing;
Thy lips have whispered their sweet words
In prayer and in blessing.
Thou hast revealed Thy soul to me
In Thy love’s fragrant blossom,
And what I had not dared to dream—
Thou took'st me to Thy bosom.
With blessing Thou hast graced my harp,
My heart and my lips' diction;
To pious battles Thou hast sent
My songs with benediction.
My forehead is from sadness freed,
Fears are a thing I scoff at,
My soul is filled with dawning light—
And I am love’s great prophet.