How the night-time, still and starry, Seems to hover over all! With what mystic, magic glory Do the silver moonbeams fall, In my heart sweet memories waking,— Sweet, yet O, how strangely sad! As the past in retrospection Mingles visions grave and glad.
Childhood had its wealth of gladness, When bright angel-faces shone From each fleecy cloud above me, Ever smiling sweetly down; God's great love and mercy clasping All the world in close embrace; Nothing to be feared or dreaded, For I saw His shining face.
Through each leaf, each bud and bird-song, Came His voice in love to me. Nature sang a choral anthem,— O, how grand her minstrelsy!— Till my heart, with rapture thrilling, Must in adoration bow, Breathing, "Ever gracious Father, Holy, O my God, art Thou!"
Years have brought me care and trial; Much of sunshine and of shade;— One by one, the bright tints changing, Till life's rose-hued glories fade. Much of weakness and of folly Blots the page of every year; And a sad voice gently chiding, In the stillness oft I hear.
One by one, have many shadows Dimmed my spirit's inner light; Yet, perchance, to me have given Other hopes and visions bright; Through Thy grace, O God, inspiring Aspirations good and pure, Love and faith and trust unfailing; For Thy promises are sure.
