Ah, more than my mouth thirsts for your drink!
Up creeps desire, warm through my blood,
Surging into my heart, whence it must sink
And ebb away, until the newer flood
Breaks over me, straining in my distress.
And still we keep us tarrying at the kiss!
My readiness complete do you not guess,
I cannot tell it, cannot ask my bliss —
I cannot ask. With all my will I plead
My lips to speak, and still they hold me dumb —
Dumb, waiting you, who only wait my need!
O wait no longer, love; O love, come! come.

I.

Where, saith the mourner, is this Christ,
That call the hungry to a feast?
Where is that grace proclaim'd so free?
Say, herald, point the way to me.

II.

If, as you say, he spilt his blood,
To bring immortal souls to GOD ;
Then tell me, tell me, where I'll go,
To find if this be true, or no?

III.

" Well, saith the Saviour, hear I be?
" Where is the soul inquiries for me?
" I by my spirit now declare,
" My grace is free, and you may share. "

IV.

O saith the soul, I wou'd receive;

This is Goethe, with a forehead
Like the fabled front of Jove;
In its massive lines the tokens
More of majesty than love.

This is Schiller, in whose features,
With their passionate calm regard,
We behold the true ideal
Of the high heroic bard,

Whom the inward world of feeling
And the outward world of sense
To the endless labor summon,
And the endless recompense.

These are they, sublime and silent,
From whose living lips have rung
Words to be remembered ever
In the noble German tongue;

I.

Amazing sight, the Saviour stands,
And knocks at every door;
Ten thousand blessing in his hands,
For to supply the poor.

II.

" Behold, saith he, I bleed and die,
" To bring poor souls to rest;
" Hear, sinners, while I'm passing by,
" And be forever blest.

III.

" Will you despite such bleeding love,

At Richmond, in the month of May,
I climbed the city's lofty crest;
Below, the level landscape lay,
And proudly streamed, from east to west,
The glories of the dawning day.

There stand the statues Crawford gave
His country, while with bleeding heart
She showered upon his open grave
The laurels of victorious Art,
And wept the life she could not save.

How grandly, on that granite base,
The youthful hero sits sublime;
The leader of the chosen race,
The noblest of the sons of Time,
With all his future in his face.

Come here ye rich, come here ye great,
Come here ye grave, come here ye gay,
Behold our blest, though humble fate,
Who, while the sun shines, make our hay.

II.

The gay plum'd lady, with her state,
Would she in courts a moment stay.
Could she but guess our happy fate,
Who, while the sun shines, make our hay.

III.

I.

Jesus thy gospel armour gird,
To spread abroad thy gracious fame,
Ride in the chariot of thy word,
And teach the dying world thy name.

II.

Triumph in mercy through our land,
And cause the poor dry bones to move;
Display thy love, make bare thine hand,
And teach immortal souls thy love.

III.

Here's some immers'd in shades of night,
And some involv'd in deep distress;

On this sweet Sabbath morning, let us wander
From the loud music and the gay parade,
Where sleeps the graveyard, in its silence, yonder,
Deep in the mountain shade.

There, side by side, the dark, green cedars cluster,
Like sentries watching by that camp of Death;
There, like an army's tents, with snow-white lustre,
The gravestones gleam beneath.

But, as we go, no posted guard or picket
Stay our approach across the level grass,
Nor hostile challenge at the simple wicket
Through which our footsteps pass.

I.

All hail, all hail, ye souls that dwell
Just on the verge of death and hell,
Behold your mighty Saviour's come!
To day he spreads his arms abroad,
Inviting sinners home to GOD ;
Come mourning souls, with Jesus dwell.

II.

Unbounded goodness waits for you,
To heal your wounds, and feed you too;

A thousand sounds, and each a joyful sound:
The dragon-flies are darting as they please;
The humming-birds are humming all around;
The clethra all alive with buzzing bees.
Each playful leaf its separate whisper found,
As laughing winds went rustling through the grove;
And I saw thousands of such sights as these,
And heard a thousand sounds of joy and love.

And yet so dull I was, I did not know
That He was there who all this love displayed;
I did not think how He who loved us so
Shared all my joy,—was glad that I was glad;