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.