The Growth Of Song.

A poem by Freeman Edwin Miller

A tender song in shadows grew,
And humble hearts were homes it knew.

But through its wondrous music stole
The longings of the human soul;

The hopes of hosts unsatisfied
Within its numbers wandered wide;

And strangely wet with toilsome tears
It held the yearnings of the years;

Till millions with their woes oppressed,
Proclaimed the song of peace and rest;

Till nations in their troubled ways
Found comfort in the joyous lays,

And all the halting race of wrong
Exalts the loving might of song!

Ah, song that soothes our many cries
With fondness of thy lullabies,

We love, we bless, we scepter thee
Proud empress of the hearts that be!

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