I hear Thy fond whisper thro' leaves and grass
E'en as my heart weeps with the mourning dove;
'Neath blazing heat of noontide sun above,
Breezes caress me as I feel Thee pass.

Sunset fades into soft, nocturnal thrill;
The full moon rises, its silv'ry beams cast
Shadows slanting o'er field and meadows vast,
Cicadas hum, blending with whip-poor-will.

And as I listen at faint hush of dawn,
My spirit soars and sails as if with wings
At ev'ry flute-like note the wood thrush sings,
My soul to Thy eternal love is drawn.

**~Hilda~