I THERE are those who would silence the Thrush, And stifle his woodnotes wild; But never for them the Evening's hush Or the heart of a little child! II There are those who would ravish a flower, The heart of a maid despoil; But the Spirit that lives from hour to hour Shall it ever their souls assoil? III There are those who would strangle Belief, Profaning the mystic tryst; But over the swirling waters of grief Comes the luminous face of Christ! |