The “Miserere” of the wintry earth
Went up to Heaven on the wings of air—
I heard it, sitting by my lonely hearth—
An awful music; sighs and moans of prayer,
The anguish human words could never bear
Into God’s ear, the agony whose birth
The soul hides from itself were mingled there
With the fierce undertones of frantic mirth.
Then came a hush, and suddenly the floor
Was carpeted with sunshine, living gold,
That filled the heart with summer; Heaven’s door
Was touched and opened, and at once there rolled,
In strains of sweetest music from above,
Back to the earth an answer, “God is Love!”