Poems of America . g,Sown, like the lilies, over forms as fair. 26Q POEMS OF PLACES. Of whom, to-day, what broken hearts are Sabbath song and prayer. Peace to the sleepers ! may the bud and blossom,Springs early bloom and Summers sweet increase, Tail not, while Nature, on her tender bosom,Polds them and whispers, Peace ! And here at last who could not rest contented? Beneath, — the river, with its tranquil flood;Around, — the breezes of the morning, scented With odors from the wood; Above, — the eternal hills, their shadows blending •With morn and noon and twilights deepening
Poems of America . g,Sown, like the lilies, over forms as fair. 26Q POEMS OF PLACES. Of whom, to-day, what broken hearts are Sabbath song and prayer. Peace to the sleepers ! may the bud and blossom,Springs early bloom and Summers sweet increase, Tail not, while Nature, on her tender bosom,Polds them and whispers, Peace ! And here at last who could not rest contented? Beneath, — the river, with its tranquil flood;Around, — the breezes of the morning, scented With odors from the wood; Above, — the eternal hills, their shadows blending •With morn and noon and twilights deepening pall; And overhead, — the infinite heavens, attending Until the end of all! William Allen Butler. White Lake, N. Y. \ WHITE LAKE. PURE as their parent springs ! how brightThe silvery waters stretch away,Peposing in the pleasant lightOf Junes most lovely day. Curving around the eastern side, Pich meadows slope their banks, to meet, j With fringe of grass and fern, tlie tide Wliich sparkles at their feet. J. As when the hermit waters woke Beneath the Indians bark. See page WHITE LAKE. 267 Here, busy life attests tliat toil, With its quick talisman, lias madeFields greeu aud waving, from a soil Of rude and savage shade. While opposite, the forest lies In giant sliadow, black and deep,Filling with leaves the circling sky, And frowning in its sleep. Amid this scene of light and gloom,Tvature with art links hand in hand, Thick woods beside soft rural bloom,As by a seers command. Here, waves the grain; here, curls the smoke; The orchard bends : there, wilds as darkAs when the hermit waters woke Beneath the Indians bark. Oft will the panthers startling shriekWith the herds quiet lowings swell, The wolfs fierce howl terrific breakUpon the shcepfolds bell. The ploughman sees the wind-winged deer Dart from his covert to the wave,And fearless in its mirror clear His branching antlers lave. Here, the green headlands seem to meetSo near, a fairy bridge might cross; 268 POEMS or pla
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, booksubjectamerica, bookyear1882
