Classic Poem

This is the Lord's own day;
I am alone on this broad plain;
The morning bell rings once again,
Then all sound dies away.

In prayer I bend the knee;
Oh sweetest thrill! mysterious sound!
As though the unseen spirits round
Now knelt and prayed with me.

The heaven's wide display,
So calm and so serene it lies,
As though 'twould open to my eyes;
This is the Lord's own day!