Often the western wind has sung to me, br There have been voices in the streams and meres, br And pitiful trees have told me, God, of Thee : br And I heard not. Oh ! open Thou mine ears. br br The reeds have whispered low as I passed by, br ' Be strong, O friend, be strong, put off vain fears, br Vex not they soul with doubts, God cannot lie ' : br And I heard not. Oh ! open Thou mine ears. br br There have been many stars to guide my feet, br Often the delicate moon, hearing my sighs, br Has rent the clouds and shown a silver street; br And I saw not. Oh ! open Thou mine eyes. br br Angels have beckoned me unceasingly, br And walked with me ; and from the sombre skies br Dear Christ Himself has stretched out hands to me ; br And I saw not. Oh ! open Thou mine eyes.