English poem
And her soul is drinking the music that flows through the…
by John Reade (1826–)
And her soul is drinking the music that flows through the golden lyre, From the deeps of the woods and waters and wonderful hearts of men, From the long-hushed songs of the forest, the wild, primeval choir, Till she feels the breath of the Spirit move over her face again.
More by John Reade
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- And now to you he brings
- And now, when centuries have flown
- And sea and lake and mountain
- And she hears many tongues of men, that are singing as one…