Songs of Exile/Prelude: Ode on Chazanuth
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.
Angels be gathering Earth's ascending prayer,
That, heavenward bound,
Shall deck the Throne with wreathèd garlands fair
Of wafted sound.
Song of the ages, lo! the fettered soul
Shall break its bond,
And, wrapt in thee, look forth upon the whole
Of Heaven beyond.
Sing on, sweet minstrel, thine immortal song—
My harp for aye,
Vision of hope to men that live and long
And pass away.
