No censor filled with spices rare
E'er swung such sweetness on the air.

And all the golden gloom of it holdeth no haunting fear,
For it is blessed, and giveth rest
To those who enter here--
Here in the evening--who can know
But God Himself walks to and fro!

And music past all mastering within the chancel rings;
None could desire a sweeter choir
Than this--that soars and sings,
Till far the scented shadows creep--
And quiet darkness bringeth sleep.




REQUEST

(To E. M.)

Sing me a song--a song to ease old sorrows,
And dull the edge of care--
A song of Hope to ring through all the morrows
That be my share.

Unlock the doors where joy hath been in hiding,
Though barred they be and strong,
And send black grief far down the wind a-riding--