Uttered in broken accents
By the trembling voice of age,
Or inscribed in true devotion
By the pen of an earnest sage;
O, the saint's unheard, unuttered prayer
In its garnered fullness complete,
Shall perfume Heaven's unclouded air,
A golden vial of odors, sweet.
By the trembling voice of age,
Or inscribed in true devotion
By the pen of an earnest sage;
O, the saint's unheard, unuttered prayer
In its garnered fullness complete,
Shall perfume Heaven's unclouded air,
A golden vial of odors, sweet.
Wrung from the anguished bosom
Of the stricken, dying, brave,
Murmured in faltering accents
O'er the cradle or the grave;
Forevermore shall the angels
Faith's last petition keep;
And love's true invocation
Is a vial of odors, sweet.
Of the stricken, dying, brave,
Murmured in faltering accents
O'er the cradle or the grave;
Forevermore shall the angels
Faith's last petition keep;
And love's true invocation
Is a vial of odors, sweet.
Vibrating the chords of gladness
Like the praises of happy birds,
Or swaying the chords of sadness
In notes, too deep for words;
How many a priceless treasure
Is flung on the silent air,
When a golden vial full of odors
Is the spirit's voiceless prayer!
Like the praises of happy birds,
Or swaying the chords of sadness
In notes, too deep for words;
How many a priceless treasure
Is flung on the silent air,
When a golden vial full of odors
Is the spirit's voiceless prayer!
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