The Twenty-Second Sunday After Trinity
Life, life, eternal life:
My spirit craves to know
Its calm amid the feverish strife
Of shadows here below.
The world with all its bloom,
Its laughter and its song,
Throws garlands only on the tomb:
It cannot last for long.
Life, life: it is not found
In depths of human lore,
And science with fresh laurels crown'd
Is faint with thirst for more.
“For ever”—who shall climb
The height that scans that sea?
Or gaze unblench'd from passing time
On dread eternity?
O Jesu, Thou alone
The living fountain art,
A well of rapture all its own
Within the contrite heart.
My Saviour, let me drink
Of Thee until I stand
Beside the crystal river's brink
In heaven my fatherland.
My spirit craves to know
Its calm amid the feverish strife
Of shadows here below.
The world with all its bloom,
Its laughter and its song,
Throws garlands only on the tomb:
It cannot last for long.
Life, life: it is not found
In depths of human lore,
And science with fresh laurels crown'd
Is faint with thirst for more.
“For ever”—who shall climb
The height that scans that sea?
Or gaze unblench'd from passing time
On dread eternity?
O Jesu, Thou alone
The living fountain art,
A well of rapture all its own
Within the contrite heart.
My Saviour, let me drink
Of Thee until I stand
Beside the crystal river's brink
In heaven my fatherland.
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