Soft and holy Vesper Hour— br Precursor of the night— br How I love thy soothing power, br The hush, the fading light; br Raising those vain thoughts of ours br To higher, holier things— br Mingling gleams from Eden’s bowers br With earth’s imaginings! br br How thrilling in some grand old fane br To hear the Vesper prayer br Rise, with the organ’s solemn strain, br On incense-laden air; br While the last dying smiles of day br Athwart the stained glass pour— br Flooding with red and golden ray br The shrine and chancel floor. br br Who, at such moment, has not felt br Those yearnings, vague, yet sweet, br For Heaven’s joys at last to melt, br Into fruition meet; br And wished, as with rapt soul he viewed br That glorious Home above, br That earth’s vain thoughts would ne’er intrude br On visions of God’s love? br br To this calm hour belongs a sway br The bright day cannot wield— br Sweet as the evening star’s first ray, br Transforming wood and field; br Soft’ing gay flowers else too bright br And silvering hill and dell; br And clothing earth in that mild light br The sad heart loves so well.