Man only mars the sweet accord
  O'erpowering with "harsh din"
The music of Thy works and word,
  Ill matched with grief and sin.

Sin is with man at morning break,
  And through the livelong day
Deafens the ear that fain would wake
  To Nature's simple lay.

But when eve's silent footfall steals
  Along the eastern sky,
And one by one to earth reveals
  Those purer fires on high,

When one by one each human sound
  Dies on the awful ear,
Then Nature's voice no more is drowned,
  She speaks, and we must hear.

Then pours she on the Christian heart
  That warning still and deep,
At which high spirits of old would start
  E'en from their Pagan sleep.

Just guessing, through their murky blind
  Few, faint, and baffling sight,
Streaks of a brighter heaven behind,
  A cloudless depth of light.

Such thoughts, the wreck of Paradise,
  Through many a dreary age,
Upbore whate'er of good and wise
  Yet lived in bard or sage:

They marked what agonizing throes
  Shook the great mother's womb:
But Reason's spells might not disclose
  The gracious birth to come:

Nor could the enchantress Hope forecast
  God's secret love and power;
The travail pangs of Earth must last
  Till her appointed hour.

The hour that saw from opening heaven
  Redeeming glory stream,