Make ends meet

dust to seek? Ring out your chimes believing crowds among, The message

well I hear, my faith alone is weak; From faith her darling, miracle, hath

sprung. Aloft to yonder spheres I dare not soar, Whence sound the tidings of

great joy; And yet, with this sweet strain familiar when a boy, Back it recalleth

me to life once more. Then would celestial love, with holy kiss, Come o'er me

in the Sabbath's stilly hour, While, fraught with solemn meaning and

mysterious power, Chim'd the deep - sounding bell, and prayer was bliss; A

yearning impulse, undefin'd yet dear, Drove me to wander on through wood