We long for wings!
Self, weary of a sense that clings
To dust, and all material things,,
Rebels at limitation; then
We long for wings.
We have our wings—God-given, free;
Unfurled, they reach eternity.
When on the wings of holy thought,
Which understanding makes our own,
We rise above the clouds of sense,
Where Spirit rules in love alone;
And waiting there, find answered prayer.
O joy divine! O soul that sings
In blissful silence!
We have proved our wings.
