The Morning, Noiseless

1 The morning, noiseless, flings its gold,
and still is evening’s pace;
and silently the earth is rolled
amid the vast of space.

2 Night moves in silence round the pole,
the stars sing on unheard;
their music pierces to the soul,
yet borrows not a word.

3 In quietude the spirit grows,
and deepens hour to hour;
in calm eternal onward flows
its all-redeeming power.

4 Attend, O soul; and hear at length
the spirit’s silent voice;
in stillness labor; wait in strength;
and, confident, rejoice.

Source: Singing the Living Tradition #43