Brood o’er us with Thy shel­ter­ing wing,
’Neath which our spir­its blend
Like bro­ther birds, that soar and sing,
And on the same branch bend.
The ar­row that doth wound the dove
Darts not from those who watch and love.

If thou the bend­ing reed would break
By thought or word un­kind,
Pray that His Spir­it you par­take,
Who loved and healed man­kind:
Seek ho­ly thoughts and hea­ven­ly strain,
That make men one in love re­main.

Learn, too, that wis­dom’s rod is giv­en
For faith to kiss, and know;
That greet­ings glo­ri­ous from high hea­ven,
Whence joys super­nal flow,
Come from that Love, di­vine­ly near,
Which chast­ens pride and earth­born fear.

Through God, who gave that word of might
Which swelled cre­ation’s lay:
Let there be light, and there was light.
What chased the clouds away?
’Twas love whose fin­ger traced aloud
A bow of pro­mise on the cloud.

Thou to whose pow­er our hope we give,
Free us from hu­man strife.
Fed by Thy love di­vine we live,
For Love alone is life;
And life most sweet, as heart to heart
Speaks kind­ly when we meet and part.