. Miami woods, A golden wedding, and other poems . t— A depth of joy, that whelms, Like the lone, starry night,Our intellectual being, in a maze,Where fancy, pleasd, bewilderd, startled, plays— Now floundering in gloom,Now reveling in glory, as a ray The darkness doth illume: Then bursts the perfect day,And the cleard vision wanders wide and freeThrough the starrd realms of vast Infinity. Morn on the hill-tops! Hark!The low of kine swells up from yon green vale, With song of meadow-lark, And merry note of quail;And the hip-halloo! of the wild cow-boy,Comes, soft and musical, and full of joy. T
. Miami woods, A golden wedding, and other poems . t— A depth of joy, that whelms, Like the lone, starry night,Our intellectual being, in a maze,Where fancy, pleasd, bewilderd, startled, plays— Now floundering in gloom,Now reveling in glory, as a ray The darkness doth illume: Then bursts the perfect day,And the cleard vision wanders wide and freeThrough the starrd realms of vast Infinity. Morn on the hill-tops! Hark!The low of kine swells up from yon green vale, With song of meadow-lark, And merry note of quail;And the hip-halloo! of the wild cow-boy,Comes, soft and musical, and full of joy. The breeze is rising now :The purple clouds sail gracefully along; The spiral saplings bow, And swell the choral song;And from each tree-top, by the free wind stirrd,Floats the rich matin of some grateful 234 Miscellaneous. Man—man alone! of allTo whom this visible glory hath been given,Deemeth the privilege smallThus to commune with Heaven:There is no bank or railroad stock on high—Stars are not gold—pence rain not from the sky!. Harvest Hymn. 235 & l^arbcst f&nmtt. Great God!—our heart-felt thanks to Thee! We feel thy presence everywhere;And pray, that we may ever be Thus objects of thy guardian care. We sowd!—by Thee our work was seen,And blessd; and instantly went forth Thy mandate ; and in living green Soon smiled the fair and fruitful earth. We toild!—and Thou didst note our toil; And gavst the sunshine and the rain,Till ripend on the teeming soil The fragrant grass, and golden grain. And now, we reap!—and oh, our God! From this, the earths unbounded floor,We send our Song of Thanks abroad, And pray Thee, bless our hoarded store! 236 Miscellaneous. Sluflust. Dust on thy mantle! dust,Bright summer, ou thy livery of green! A tarnish, as of rust, Dims thy late-brilliant sheen:And thy young glories—leaf, and bud, and flower-Change cometh over them with every hour. Thee hath the August sunLookd on with hot, and fierce, and brassy face; And still and
Size: 2106px × 1187px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookpublishercinci, bookyear1881
