A pulse, a gentle stirring, a fire deep within,
A flame to light the coals of love, a spark from nought begin.
Burning through the wintery cold, hope, so worn and thin,
Yet find in you, that fiery hearth, to warm my soul within.
There amidst the undergrowth, or high the forest top,
Where the birds, they gather, or the hills, their rocky crop.
With faintly steps, discerning, nary a rest or stop,
See the elves, they’re scurrying! Wings and feet, a hop!
Come, stay with me til ‘morrow, this night alone as one,
This our little getaway, let all the others shun.
What holds for us, come morning, the waking of sun,
Will Love survive our dreaming, or will all become as none.
A drop, the endless ocean, a breeze, the mighty gale,
A grain, the fields of harvest, a step, the mountain trail.
A sigh, the deepest sorrow, berth, the sunset, sail,
A breath, the world beginning, a Cross, salvation, hail.
A kiss of golden sunshine, the touch of falling rain,
The softness of the meadow, how free, the highland plains.
The rivers, calmly threading, the clouds, their endless train,
The vastness of the heavens, the smallness of the grain.
Bless us in the morning, its cool and sprightly air,
Bless us in the noontime, as the heat, our spirits wear.
Bless us in the twilight, the sun now bids us fare,
Bless us, come the nighttime, in our dreams, to find You there.