WORDLESS SONGS by Eliza H. Morton

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · June 17, 1880

FromThe Review and Herald, Vol. 55, No. 25

WORDLESS SONGS.

By Eliza H. Morton

BY ELIZA H. MORTON.

Within my soul a spirit dwells, And struggles to be free; It moves my spirit ’gainst my will, And giveth songs to me. Yet words are weak, and ne’er express The feelings of the heart; The dreams and visions of the soul Can but be told in part.

When clothed in words, the tender thought Seems reft of half its power, E’en like the painted outline dim Of Nature’s fairest flower; The ideal bright flits on and on, And taunts the wearied brain With songs too deep for tongue or pen, While echo is but pain.

My lips no utterance can give, No friend can ever know The thrilling strains that through my mind Forever come and go, While oft the voiceless melody, Like music of sweet bells, Through inmost chambers of my soul In rhythmic fullness swells.

And will this struggle be for aye, My lips be ever dumb? Oh, will the unattained flit on, The substance never come? O vague Unknown! I long to grasp Thy “fleeting forms of bliss;” The shadows of this mortal life Are far from happiness.

Oh, thought of joy! the time will come When we shall know the real, And sing the songs, illusive here, And grasp the bright ideal; Our thoughts in words will freely flow, Our lips break forth in praise, When peace, and love, and endless rest Crown evermore our days.