There sages sit in cloistered halls,
And nature's depth explore,
And poets, too, within those walls
Dream, lost in tragic lore.
But never has the heart of man
Conceived the bright display
Of Wisdom's long concerted plan,
The triumph of that Day.
Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard,
Nor can man's spirit frame
The wondrous things of God, prepared
For those who love His Name;
Revealed now, they form our part,
Then why such joys delay?
May Christ's own glory fill our heart,
In this, the Spirit's Day!