Soft and holy Vesper Hour-
Precursor of the night-
How I love thy soothing power,
The hush, the fading light;
Raising those vain thoughts of ours
To higher, holier things-
Mingling gleams from Eden-s bowers
With earth-s imaginings!

How thrilling in some grand old fane
To hear the Vesper prayer
Rise, with the organ-s solemn strain,
On incense-laden air;
While the last dying smiles of day
Athwart the stained glass pour-
Flooding with red and golden ray
The shrine and chancel floor.

Who, at such moment, has not felt
Those yearnings, vague, yet sweet,
For Heaven-s joys at last to melt,
Into fruition meet;
And wished, as with rapt soul he viewed
That glorious Home above,
That earth-s vain thoughts would ne-er intrude
On visions of God-s love?

To this calm hour belongs a sway
The bright day cannot wield-
Sweet as the evening star-s first ray,
Transforming wood and field;
Soft-ing gay flowers else too bright
And silvering hill and dell;
And clothing earth in that mild light
The sad heart loves so well.