Third Sunday after Trinity

How the spirit oft is moved
By the sounds of joy on earth,

Ringing laugh from voice beloved!
Manly cheer, or childish mirth!

Songs of birds in leafy trees,
Hum of insects everywhere,

Joybells coming up the breeze,
Playing with the evening air:

All, like notes of one fall chord,
Bearing each its proper part,

Soft and sweet, as loving word,
Pass into the human heart.

If the joy of earth below
Be so fair to hear and see;

Who of mortal men can know
What the joy of Heaven must be?

'Joy in Heaven,' where joy alone
In perfection may be found,

Spreading from the glorious throne
Widening circles all around;

Till throughout remotest space
Each successive circle steals,

With its bright and holy grace,
Into everything that feels.

Sure it is no vain conceit,
But a faith to feeling dear,

That whate'er of soft or sweet
Ever waits around us here,

Is some faint pulsation felt
From the joy of Heav'n above,

That can die not, till it melt
Human hearts to joy and love.

Summer breeze! 'tis Heav'n's pure air
Stirr'd above by Angel's wing! —

Pleasant sound! 'tis music there,
Echoed from where Angels sing:

'Indescribable delight!'
That doth oft the heart beguile,

Comes from waving rings of light
Moved by God's approving smile.

Pleasant thought! but still more blest
That which we for surety know,

That into the realms of rest
Joy may e'en from mortals flow.

Not our pride, nor our success,
Angels' sympathy may win,

But the tear of heart-distress,
Shed in penitence for sin.

Not, like drops of morning dew,
Jewel-like to distant eyes,

And whose light, on nearer view,
Slowly fades away and dies;

But, like diamonds in the mine
Of Redemption, seen afar,

And to hearts and eyes divine
Brighter than the evening star.

Such the tears repentance sheds,
When the soul to God is given;

Dew-drops here on drooping heads,
Jewels there, and ' Joy in Heaven.'