So still lay the city,
So very quietly it slept,
That from high in the west
I heard the honking of geese
Winging southward.
Yearningly I listened
As they swept over,
Yearningly I cried—
O wild things, that I
Could fly as do you!
Then out of the silent darkness,
Like a flying star,
Flashed a plane
With its skyborne humans.
And all of a sudden
I remembered that I, too,
Could take to wings.
So very quietly it slept,
That from high in the west
I heard the honking of geese
Winging southward.
Yearningly I listened
As they swept over,
Yearningly I cried—
O wild things, that I
Could fly as do you!
Then out of the silent darkness,
Like a flying star,
Flashed a plane
With its skyborne humans.
And all of a sudden
I remembered that I, too,
Could take to wings.
Petit Trianon
(Versailles, France)
When the long drawn notes of a bird’s song
Echoes through the trees,
It brings to remembrance the songs
Of the blackbirds at Petit Trianon:
Chiming, reverberating, floating down
From the tops of the tall cedars
As from an invisible, celestial choir.
Echoes through the trees,
It brings to remembrance the songs
Of the blackbirds at Petit Trianon:
Chiming, reverberating, floating down
From the tops of the tall cedars
As from an invisible, celestial choir.
Nor can I forget the ages-old wisteria
Clambering over gray palace walls,
Nor the gamut of color in the azaleas there—
Pink, orange, cerise, yellow—
In pale green foliage.
Clambering over gray palace walls,
Nor the gamut of color in the azaleas there—
Pink, orange, cerise, yellow—
In pale green foliage.
Joy
When your heavens are as brass
And joy has fled, and
Every door is shut,
Do not forget the one
That opens inward—
The door of your heart,
Whose handle is on the inside
And which only you can open.
Go out through that door
And find one whose skies
Are darker than yours,
Whose burden is heavier;
Bring him back with you
Into your heart.
And joy has fled, and
Every door is shut,
Do not forget the one
That opens inward—
The door of your heart,
Whose handle is on the inside
And which only you can open.
Go out through that door
And find one whose skies
Are darker than yours,
Whose burden is heavier;
Bring him back with you
Into your heart.
Twilight Song Service
(“B.A.” Chestnut Hill, Mass.)
In the deepening twilight there floats
From the chapel above, the loved hymns of healing—
Hymns of comfort, of courage, welling up from grateful hearts
And bringing reassurance of God’s power
To one who listens below in silent prayer and praise.
Great peace of God, be with us all!
Great peace of God encompass us!
Speak to the waves tonight, Father, that they stand.
Stretch forth Thy hand and stay their power,
Calm them, that they overwhelm not.
For Thy voice is “mightier than the noise of many waters,
Yea, than the mighty waves of the sea.”
This Thou canst do, O my God.
From the chapel above, the loved hymns of healing—
Hymns of comfort, of courage, welling up from grateful hearts
And bringing reassurance of God’s power
To one who listens below in silent prayer and praise.
Great peace of God, be with us all!
Great peace of God encompass us!
Speak to the waves tonight, Father, that they stand.
Stretch forth Thy hand and stay their power,
Calm them, that they overwhelm not.
For Thy voice is “mightier than the noise of many waters,
Yea, than the mighty waves of the sea.”
This Thou canst do, O my God.
Triumph
These are they, O God,
Who came out of great tribulation
And have washed their robes white.
Oh, holy triumph of those
Who have endured the fire
And the tempest’s rage and, delivered,
Stand exalted in this very hour,
Purged, sanctified, and satisfied.
These are they who have surrendered
All the vanities of mortal selfhood,
And serve Thee
Day and night in Thy temple,
Lifting others to behold
The tearless, ageless, deathless reality
Of Thy glory.
Who came out of great tribulation
And have washed their robes white.
Oh, holy triumph of those
Who have endured the fire
And the tempest’s rage and, delivered,
Stand exalted in this very hour,
Purged, sanctified, and satisfied.
These are they who have surrendered
All the vanities of mortal selfhood,
And serve Thee
Day and night in Thy temple,
Lifting others to behold
The tearless, ageless, deathless reality
Of Thy glory.
Transcriber's Note
Minor typographic errors have been corrected without note.