1 The turf shall be my fragrant shrine,
My temple, Lord! that arch of Thine;
My censer’s breath the mountain airs,
And silent thoughts my only prayers.
2 My choir shall be the moonlight waves,
When murmuring homeward to their caves,
Or when the stillness of the sea,
E’en more than music, breathes of Thee!
3 I’ll seek, by day, some glade unknown,
All light and silence, like Thy throne;
And all the pale stars shall be at night,
The only eyes that watch my rite.
4 Thy Heaven, on which ’tis bliss to look,
Shall be my pure and shining book,
Where I shall read, in words of flame,
The glories of Thy wondrous name.
5 I’ll read Thy anger in the rack
That clouds awhile the day-beams track;
Thy mercy in the azure hue
Of sunny brightness breaking through!
6 There’s nothing bright, above, below,
From flowers that bloom to stars that glow,
But in its light my soul can see
Some feature of Thy deity.
7 There’s nothing dark, below, above,
But in its gloom I trace Thy love,
And meekly wait that moment, when
Thy touch shall turn all bright again!
Source: The Cyber Hymnal #12060
|Instances (1 - 1 of 1)||Title||First Line||Tune||Tune Key||Author||Meter||Scripture||Date||Subject||Source|
|The Cyber Hymnal #12060||The Turf Shall Be My Fragrant Shrine||The turf shall be my fragrant shrine||LOUVAN||Thomas Moore||LM|