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Poem
June 30, 1866
The Charleston Daily News
Charleston, Charleston County, South Carolina
What is this article about?
A religious hymn depicting a dream vision of God and angels, expressing awe, prayer for salvation, and devotion despite personal sins. Attributed to John Rutledge Fitz-Henri, published in the New York Evening Post, June 30, 1866.
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The Daily News.
SATURDAY MORNING, JUNE 30, 1866.
[From the New York Evening Post.]
A Hymn to God.
In my dreaming ears I hear Thee
Calling, calling through the night;
In my visions Thou art near me,
Filling my closed eyes with light.
Still, so close, I do not fear Thee,
Nor for worlds would I awake;
Yet, I hear each music-number
Stealing through my body's slumber
That Thy golden foot-falls make.
From the soft couch where I'm sinking,
From the silken curtains shrinking,
From my silent heart retiring,
Then escaped each dark sin's leaven,
If my raptured soul aspiring
Through my shrouded eyes to heaven,
And the permeating dreams
Every sweet thought in me drinking,
Flashing up like morning beams,
Spreading out in soul-like streams.
Through my slumbering form are sinking
Down the night from the Elysian
Fields of light above me lying,
Cross the sun-glare of my vision,
Do I see thine angels flying-
Do I see their white robes flutter.
Do I hear their gold harps ringing,
And Thy praises that they utter,
And Thy anthems they are singing
Breathe the perfumes they are flinging;
Beg them on their rushing pinions
Soaring upward like a dream,
Rushing outward like the white steam
Through the dark earth's sullen slumber-
Rising like an incense over
O'er the fields of mortal strife;
Borne across the mystic river
Through the inner gates of life.
When I heard Thy steps departing.
As the holy night declineth,
Through my leafy casement darting
Faint the early morning shineth,
And the matin hymns that rising
From the angels on the housetop
From mine eyelids gently, softly,
From my hands, so meekly folded,
One by one are softly lifting
All the silken bands of slumber.
Then from my sweet dreams starting,
In Thy deepest name I pray Thee,
In that name I ne'er have spoken,
Ne'er my mortal lips have broken-
Do, I pray Thee, yet would stay Thee,
That I still might call Thee mine,
Still might worship Thee alone,
With my soul Thy only throne
And my heart Thy only shrine.
Wilt thou leave me some high token
Though in slumber it be given,
Though the sins my lips have spoken,
Though the deep vows I have broken,
Thou wilt save me in Thy heaven;
Thou'lt save me, Thou wilt save,
O, my bended knees implore Thee,
From the fiery sins that have me-
From the death now pending o'er me,
In that Bosom that has bore me.
JOHN RUTLEDGE FITZ-HENRI.
SATURDAY MORNING, JUNE 30, 1866.
[From the New York Evening Post.]
A Hymn to God.
In my dreaming ears I hear Thee
Calling, calling through the night;
In my visions Thou art near me,
Filling my closed eyes with light.
Still, so close, I do not fear Thee,
Nor for worlds would I awake;
Yet, I hear each music-number
Stealing through my body's slumber
That Thy golden foot-falls make.
From the soft couch where I'm sinking,
From the silken curtains shrinking,
From my silent heart retiring,
Then escaped each dark sin's leaven,
If my raptured soul aspiring
Through my shrouded eyes to heaven,
And the permeating dreams
Every sweet thought in me drinking,
Flashing up like morning beams,
Spreading out in soul-like streams.
Through my slumbering form are sinking
Down the night from the Elysian
Fields of light above me lying,
Cross the sun-glare of my vision,
Do I see thine angels flying-
Do I see their white robes flutter.
Do I hear their gold harps ringing,
And Thy praises that they utter,
And Thy anthems they are singing
Breathe the perfumes they are flinging;
Beg them on their rushing pinions
Soaring upward like a dream,
Rushing outward like the white steam
Through the dark earth's sullen slumber-
Rising like an incense over
O'er the fields of mortal strife;
Borne across the mystic river
Through the inner gates of life.
When I heard Thy steps departing.
As the holy night declineth,
Through my leafy casement darting
Faint the early morning shineth,
And the matin hymns that rising
From the angels on the housetop
From mine eyelids gently, softly,
From my hands, so meekly folded,
One by one are softly lifting
All the silken bands of slumber.
Then from my sweet dreams starting,
In Thy deepest name I pray Thee,
In that name I ne'er have spoken,
Ne'er my mortal lips have broken-
Do, I pray Thee, yet would stay Thee,
That I still might call Thee mine,
Still might worship Thee alone,
With my soul Thy only throne
And my heart Thy only shrine.
Wilt thou leave me some high token
Though in slumber it be given,
Though the sins my lips have spoken,
Though the deep vows I have broken,
Thou wilt save me in Thy heaven;
Thou'lt save me, Thou wilt save,
O, my bended knees implore Thee,
From the fiery sins that have me-
From the death now pending o'er me,
In that Bosom that has bore me.
JOHN RUTLEDGE FITZ-HENRI.
What sub-type of article is it?
Hymn
Ode
What themes does it cover?
Religious Faith
Moral Virtue
What keywords are associated?
Hymn To God
Dream Vision
Angels
Salvation
Devotion
Sins
Prayer
What entities or persons were involved?
John Rutledge Fitz Henri.
Poem Details
Title
A Hymn To God.
Author
John Rutledge Fitz Henri.
Form / Style
Rhymed Stanzas
Key Lines
In My Dreaming Ears I Hear Thee
Calling, Calling Through The Night;
In My Visions Thou Art Near Me,
Filling My Closed Eyes With Light.
Do I See Thine Angels Flying
Do I See Their White Robes Flutter.
Do I Hear Their Gold Harps Ringing,
And Thy Praises That They Utter,
Wilt Thou Leave Me Some High Token
Though In Slumber It Be Given,
Though The Sins My Lips Have Spoken,
Though The Deep Vows I Have Broken,
Thou Wilt Save Me In Thy Heaven;
Thou'lt Save Me, Thou Wilt Save,
O, My Bended Knees Implore Thee,
From The Fiery Sins That Have Me