Thou hast flashed on my sight,
Like a spirit of love,
In my sorrow’s deep night,
From the regions above!
And thy beauty’s calm light
With new lustre seems crowned,
As the star shows more bright
From the darkness around!
And thy voice, sweet and low
As the echo of song,
Or the streamlet’s soft flow,
As it murmurs along,
Seems a balm to impart
In this desolate hour,
That refreshes my heart,
As the dew-drop the flower.
Like the Angel that came
To St. Peter, by night;
With as holy an aim,
And a forehead as bright;
Hast thou burst on my sadness,
A dream of delight;
Turning sorrow to gladness,
And darkness to light!
(Alaric Alexander Watts)
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