Flowers
O SWEET , bright flowers! I welcome you to be
Upon God's altar in the winter hour,
An emblem of the land beyond Life's sea,
Where flowers e'er bloom, and storm-clouds never lower.
'Tis well that here your fragrance should be spent,
Where human voices utter praise to God,
To teach us that our powers all are lent,
And must be given back to him, our Lord.
O beauteous blossoms! to our hearts ye speak
Of absent loved ones on the shining shore;
And thanks are due the hand which thus can wake
The chords of memory till our spirits soar,
On Faith's bright wings, to hail the precious band
Who wait our coming in the better land.
Upon God's altar in the winter hour,
An emblem of the land beyond Life's sea,
Where flowers e'er bloom, and storm-clouds never lower.
'Tis well that here your fragrance should be spent,
Where human voices utter praise to God,
To teach us that our powers all are lent,
And must be given back to him, our Lord.
O beauteous blossoms! to our hearts ye speak
Of absent loved ones on the shining shore;
And thanks are due the hand which thus can wake
The chords of memory till our spirits soar,
On Faith's bright wings, to hail the precious band
Who wait our coming in the better land.
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