The Trees of Life

For those who worship Thee there is no death,
For all they do is but with Thee to dwell;
Now, while I take from Thee this passing breath,
It is but of Thy glorious name to tell;
Nor words nor measured sounds have I to find,
But in them both my soul doth ever flow;
They come as viewless as the unseen wind,
And tell thy noiseless steps where'er I go;
The trees that grow along thy living stream,
And from its springs refreshment ever drink,
Forever glittering in thy morning beam,
They bend them o'er the river's grassy brink;
And as more high and wide their branches grow,
They look more fair within the depths below.