Songs of the Soul/Part 1/Thy Call

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30 Huntington Avenue, Boston: Sat Sanga, pages 12–13

THY CALL


When lost I roam
I hear Thy call to home—
In whistling breeze
Or rustling leaves of trees.

When drunk in folly
I wander gaily
By the sandy shore,—
Who wakes me with a sudden roar?

When clouds do spread a veil
My precious joy to steal,—
Who tears the sheet away
To burst in redd’ning ray?

When dark night blinds,
And my movements binds,—
Who shows my path and th’ dark beguiles
With mildly mocking moonlit smiles?

The million starry stares,
The waking sunny glares,
The river’s ever-murmuring air
Thy sure and silent call declare.