Beneath the thick but struggling clouds,

We talk of Christian life;

The words of Jesus on our lips,

Our hearts with man at strife.

Traditions, forms, and selfish aims,

Have dimmed the inner light;

Have closely veiled the spirit-world

And angels from our sight.

Strong souls and willing hands we need,

Our temple to repair;

Remove the gathering dust of years,

And show the model fair.

We slumber while the present calls,

But darkness grows with rest;

Wouldst thou see truth? To action wake,—

Do the divine behest.