'Tis sweet to visit the still wood, where springs The first flower of the plain. I love the season well, When forest glades are teeming with bright forms, Nor dark and many-folded clouds foretell The coming-on of storms. From the earth's loosened mould The sapling draws its sustenance, and thrives ; The softly-warbled song Comes from the pleasant woods, and coloured wings Glance quick in the bright sun, that moves along The forest openings. When the bright sunset fills The silver woods with light, the green slope throws Its shadows in the hollows of the hills, And wide the upland glows. And, when the eve is born, In the blue lake the sky, o'er-reaching far, Inverted in the tide, Stand the gray rocks, and trembling shadows throw; And the fair trees look over, side by side, And see themselves below. Sweet April!-many a thought Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed; WITH what a glory comes and goes the year! Life's newness, and earth's garniture spread out. A sober gladness the old year takes up There is a beautiful spirit breathing now Its mellow richness on the clustered trees, And, from a beaker full of richest dyes, Pouring new glory on the autumn woods, And dipping in warm light the pillared clonds. Morn on the mountain, like a summer bird, E Lifts up her purple wing, and in the vales By the wayside a-weary. The golden robin moves. Through the trees That on wild cherry and red cedar feeds, O what a glory doth this world put on To his long resting-place without a tear. HYMN OF THE MORAVIAN NUNS OF BETHLEHEM, AT THE CONSECRATION OF PULASKI'S BANNER, WHEN the dying flame of day The blood-red banner, that with prayer And the nun's sweet hymn was heard the while, 27 27 HYMN OF THE MORAVIAN NUNS. "Take thy banner! May it wave "Take thy banner! and, beneath The battle-cloud's encircling wreath, "Take thy bauner! But, when night Spare him!-he our love hath shared! Spare him as thou wouldst be spared! "Take thy banner!—and if e'er Thou shouldst press the soldier's bier; The warrior took that banner proud, SUNRISE ON THE HILLS. I STOOD upon the hills, when heaven's wide arch The clouds were far beneath me;-bathed in light, They gathered mid-way round the wooded height, Like hosts in battle overthrown, As many a pinnacle, with shifting glance, Through the gray mist thrust up its shattered lance, And rocking on the cliff was left The dark pine blasted, bare, and cleft. The veil of cloud was lifted, and below Glowed the rich valley, and the river's flow Where upward, in the mellow blush of day, I heard the distant waters dash, I saw the current whirl and flash, And richly, by the blue lake's silver beach, The woods were bending with a silent reach. The music of the village bell Came sweetly to the echo-giving hills; And the wild horn, whose voice the woodland fills, Was ringing to the merry shout, That faint and far the glen sent out, Where, answering to the sudden shot, thin smoke, Through thick-leaved branches, from the dingle broke. If thou art worn and hard beset With sorrows, that thou wouldst forget, If thou wouldst read a lesson, that will keep Thy heart from fainting and thy soul from sleep, Go to the woods and hills!-No tears Dim the sweet look that Nature wears. |