PRELUDE
On Chazanuth
ARISE and sing, thou deathless melody—
Life's blended song—
Bearing on wings of sound aloft with thee
A mortal throng.
Lo, living yet, belovèd, lingering strain,
My harp of old,
Voice of a patience that hath borne the pain
Of years untold!
Each olden chord awaketh, every tone,
Soaring at length,
Mingling a mighty gladness with a groan
Of fallen strength.
