There is a spirit comes to me Each day at evening time, When shadows gather on the sea, And sounds the vesper chime. Then sweetly on my troubled mind It pours a soothing balm— Then flies my sorrow, and I find My soul is glad and calm. Then good and happy thoughts arise While sinks my load of care, And I behold the loving eyes Of spirits pure and fair. Such as in former days I knew And in a dearer land, Ere sorrow o'er my spirit threw The shadow of its hand. And oft I hear the whispering Of voices in my ear, And often, too, I hear them sing A song none else may hear. Still, gentle spirit, come to me Each day at evening time, When shadows gather on the sea, And sounds the vesper chime. |