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SONG 165
Fair fatherland, do not forget,
The children of his bower!
He, poor as is the rosebush, yet
Gave gladness till death’s hour—
With failure’s smart
Let not depart
From this thy soil so glad a heart,—
His garden, let it flower!
SONG
Sone brings us light with the power of lending
’ Glory to brighten the work that we find;
Song brings us warmth with the power of rending
Rigor and frost in the swift-melting mind.
Song is eternal with power of blending
Time that is gone and to come in the soul,
Fills it with yearnings that flow without ending,
Seeking that sea where the light-surges roll.
Song brings us union, while gently beguiling
Discord and doubt on its radiant way;
Song brings us union and leads, reconciling
Battle-glad passions by harmony’s sway,
Unto the beautiful, valiant, and holy!
—Some can pass over its long bridge of light
Higher and higher to visions that solely
Faith can reveal to the spirit’s pure sight.
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