Of the splendour in the west, Glowing through the ranks of pine, Clear along the mountain-crest! Long, long, long the trail Out of sorrow's lonely vale; But at last the traveller sees Light between the trees! March, 1904. THE HERMIT THRUSH O wonderful! How liquid clear The molten gold of that ethereal tone, Floating and falling through the wood alone, A hermit-hymn poured out for God to hear! O wonderful! How liquid clear The molten gold of that ethereal tone, Floating and falling through the wood alone, A hermit-hymn poured out for God to hear! O holy, holy, holy! Hyaline, Long light, low light, glory of eventide! Love far away, far up,—up,—love divine! Little love, too, for ever, ever near, Warm love, earth love, tender love of mine, In the leafy dark where you hide, You are mine,—mine,—mine! O holy, holy, holy! Hyaline, Long light, low light, glory of eventide! Love far away, far up,—up,—love divine! Little love, too, for ever, ever near, Warm love, earth love, tender love of mine,
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