A poor - torn heart - a tattered heart - That sat it down to rest - Nor noticed that the Ebbing Day Flowed silver to the West - Nor noticed Night did soft descend - Nor Constellation burn - Intent upon the vision Of latitudes unknown. The angels - happening that way This dusty heart espied - Tenderly took it up from toil And carried it to God - There - sandals for the Barefoot - There - gathered from the gales - Do the blue havens by the hand Lead the wandering Sails. |