Around a simple altar there,
Hidden in the Wildwood fair,
Comes a rushing, comes a hushing
Of all worldly cares.
There are voices, voices singing,
Streaming o’re the mountains, ringing;
There are actions, actions splendid:
Yea, the Holy Ghost descending!
There is Light to break the shadows,
Dancing in the endless way;
There’s a wonderful, golden harvest,
Manna for the Holy Day.
Deadly serpents, deadly poison,
Sickness and flaming fire,
Before the Truthful Tongues of children
Lose their power and expire.