. The mountains about Williamstown . freighted, like a songFrom bay-bound barks in hazy autumn calms;Nor less it swayd my soul than slow low where organ blasts, that roard and rushdAnd made the air-waves roll, are swiftly hushd, 86 TKe Mo-untains Abovit Williamsto-wn. And our thrilld breasts inhale as well as hearThe awe-fiUd sweetness of the atmosphere. How calmly did such sights and sounds impart Their own deep calmness to my troubled heart! With gratitude for each toy-touch of air At play on my knit brow, I rested there. But while I rested, lo, a strangers form Pushd through th
. The mountains about Williamstown . freighted, like a songFrom bay-bound barks in hazy autumn calms;Nor less it swayd my soul than slow low where organ blasts, that roard and rushdAnd made the air-waves roll, are swiftly hushd, 86 TKe Mo-untains Abovit Williamsto-wn. And our thrilld breasts inhale as well as hearThe awe-fiUd sweetness of the atmosphere. How calmly did such sights and sounds impart Their own deep calmness to my troubled heart! With gratitude for each toy-touch of air At play on my knit brow, I rested there. But while I rested, lo, a strangers form Pushd through the white bars of the moonlight warm; And with a soft slow movement near me came, The while his face, tho mute, smiled forth to claim Fiall sympathy with me ere either spoke; But soon his voice upon the silence broke: Who loves not (where all shapes and sounds we testSo charm us by the mysteries they suggest)To throw aside—or strive to throw, at least—Beliefs that satisfy our times, and feastOn superstition, and half credit freaks. A BROOK WITH THE DOME IN THE DISTANCE A path of silver oer a jewelled groundWhich far away toward heaven-like momitaiiis wound.—Page 85 87 88 TKe Mountains About Williamsto-wn With which fair fancy lured those dreamy older age has dropt the young worlds joys,And takes life earnestly; but it employsIts ardor too much like an oergrown boys,Whose fist and arm, so often plied in strife,But show his brain is weak. There are in lifeDeep truths we value not. We rend apartThe forms of nature, but have little heartTo prize the hints to thought that meet our we forget that mysteries too are true;And we forget the bourn beyond the blue;And we forget about the silent pall;And faith, which only holds the key of all. He turnd away; and I, who, well pleased, heard,Could not but follow him. Without a wordWe walkd at first, Hke pilgrims near a shrineThey much revere, who, fiUd with thrills too fineTo throb through words accented, satisfy
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookidmountainsabo, bookyear1913
