The Vesper Hour.

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