THE SONG by L. D. Santee

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Apr 21, 1914

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 41, No. 15.

THE SONG

By L. D. Santee

THAT THE SPIRIT HEARS

By L. D. Santee

THERE are deeps in the heart's dim chambers, That the cold world never knew. There are thoughts too sacred for strangers. There are loves too pure for the few. Each heart has some sweet ideal, That will fill the eyes with tears; For, toned on the shores of the real Is the song that the spirit hears.

We visit that "holy of holies," Stainless as childhood's prayer, And we bow there, humbly and lowly, For the loves of our life are there. Where a light not of earth is shining, And time measures not by years, Where the myrtles of love are twining, Is the song that the spirit hears.

Time's wheels tarry not in their turning, But my spirit is strangely light, For the fire on love's altar is burning, Though hidden deep out of sight; And though upon earth but a stranger, The haven of rest is near, And sweet in the heart's pure chamber Is the song that the spirit hears.

And soon shall a glad evangel Ring clear through the courts of heaven, And the harping of the angels Shall welcome the souls forgiven. And there, with no tinge of sadness, Where death enters not, nor tears, Will be sung, with untold gladness, The song that the spirit hears.