  [Set to Music by Com. T. C. Adams.] I love to spend the twilight hour When stars their radiance o'er me cast, With that benign mysterious power Which calls up mem'ries of the past, And brings anew the scenes of yore, Like sacred perfume from some shrine Whose hallowed influence ever more Proves life and love of birth divine. Sweet twilight hour! sweet twilight hour! How blissful is thy magic power, At thy return new strength is given To lead me to the gates of heaven. I love at such an hour as this To hold sweet converse with my soul, Anticipate a promised bliss, Or memory's charmed page unroll; To feel life's not alone for me, But has some aim, some end, some plan, Which to the soul gives dignity, And leads toward heaven a fellow man. I love at twilight hour to see The lamps of heaven in glory shine With beacon-light effulgency, To guide me to that land divine, Where dwell the loved of former years, And where no sorrow e'er may come, Where God shall wipe away all tears, And I shall find abiding home. Oh, twilight hour, how sweet thou art! Thy coming oft relieves my pain, Thy soft communings with my heart Prepare me for life's toils again; Drive thou away my sordid thought, And give my soul augmented power; Teach me to use thee as I ought, Thou holy, blessed twilight hour. Let us not lose the heritage Our fathers did bequeath To sons whose grasp should hold secure The prize, till hour of death Shall still the heart, and loose the nerve Whose tension holds secure The magic love of Liberty And Justice, strong and pure. |
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