A Hymn

FLORENCE GILMAN HART

Sweet violets springing into birth,
With timely showers that bathe the earth;
The birds all caroling in song
Their early praises, loud and long,
In purest melody—
Should they not our devotion wake,
And from each heart its burden take;
Bring joy and comfort to abide
Where selfishness is prone to hide,
Breaking Life's harmony?

Oh, gentle Spirit, Truth divine,
That in our consciousness would shine,
Let not the shades of erring thought
Conceal that love so dearly bought
By wondrous sacrifice!
Grant us the grace Thy will to know,
The confidence to banish woe,
The patience that to wisdom yields
And finds in it the might that wields
A power to win the prize.

A full dominion, conqu'ring all,
E'en from the grave it can recall;
It quiets pain, the tempest quells;
And he who in God's spirit dwells
Will hear the "Peace, be still."
His strength is ours to lean upon,
At last to hear the words "Well done,"
Which prove the conquest over sin,
And bring the welcome "Enter in"
Where Love our lives shall fill.