from Heart of Love
I heard a voice as of the rushing sea
calling to deep beyond time's jaded gate.
I slept, and woke, and ere my race was run
I found myself under the ambrose sun.
The roseal days have crowded out the years,
mine heart as to the drowsy summer-tree
has fruited, drunk of love's awakening
amid its hallowed home with Salem's firs.
Let Sion once again assume its airs,
let Lebanon forget its cypress there.
From everlasting our Redeemer comes
although the fields are fated to the flame.