The singer has been lost;

Not doer, counts for most!

 The shadow of the golden wing Grew deep where'er it fell. The heart it brooded over will Remember long and well Full many a subtle thing, too sweet Or else too sad to tell. 

Grew deep where'er it fell.

Remember long and well

Or else too sad to tell.

 Forever fall the light of spring Fair as that day it fell, Where Evangeline, led by your voice, O solemn Christ Church bell! For lovers of all springs, all climes, At last found Gabriel. 

Fair as that day it fell,

O solemn Christ Church bell!

At last found Gabriel.

 

 

 OVERTASKED. 

 It was a weary hour, I looked in the lily-bell. How holy is the flower! It leaned like an angel against the light; "O soul!" it said, sighing, "be white, be white!" 

It was a weary hour,

I looked in the lily-bell.

How holy is the flower!

 I stretched my arms for rest, I turned to the evening cloud— A vision how fair, how blest! "Low heart," it called, softly, "arise and fly. It were yours to reach levels as high as I." 

I stretched my arms for rest,

I turned to the evening cloud—

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