The poetical works of Edwin Oscar Gale . navies are made,The insects that live generations in days,The birds that, as then, are still singing His praise,These wondrous creations, think you He designed,Promoting man only, to leave these behind ? No, birds and their songs we could never spare there, Like Noah, wherever we go we will bear The larks and the robins, the thrushes and jays, To blend with our voices their carols of praise. And we would take with them the plants and the trees, The tiniest insects and homes for all these, The velvety moss in the dense sylvan bowers, The ferns and the ru


The poetical works of Edwin Oscar Gale . navies are made,The insects that live generations in days,The birds that, as then, are still singing His praise,These wondrous creations, think you He designed,Promoting man only, to leave these behind ? No, birds and their songs we could never spare there, Like Noah, wherever we go we will bear The larks and the robins, the thrushes and jays, To blend with our voices their carols of praise. And we would take with them the plants and the trees, The tiniest insects and homes for all these, The velvety moss in the dense sylvan bowers, The ferns and the rushes, and honey-dipped flowers. Till heaven embraced in its portals of light Whatever on earth filled our souls with delight. June 30, 1861. CLOUDS AND THEIR WEALTH. Awake, my harp, each chord awake !Sing to the clouds ! Sweet music makeTo that grand panorama spreadIn wondrous beauty overhead;The sun, the moon, the stars, the earth,Old ocean wild, have had their worthAnd beauty sung in graceful rhyme,By bards of every age and clime. 26. Thev say that the song of no sweet singing bird,Enchanting ns here, will in heaven be heard. The brook, the mountain and the glenHave each inspired the poets penTo numbers grand, whose sweetest laysHave been the voicing of their praise:Thy beauties have been left unsung,By idle harps and lutes feeble be my power to sing,I tender with the offeringA heart entranced by every formAssumed by thee in calm or storm. Conceived by that old alchemist Wert thou, who wandered in the mist. When all was robed in blackest night Until God said, LET THERE BE LIGHT. Thence kisses with the lips of morn The mountain tops—and thou art born— A tribute lays upon the sea, As Neptunes offering to thee, And doth a tithe impartial take From running stream, from silvered lake, yEolus calls then from his throne To bear you far from zone to zone, And bless with thy refreshing showers The parched grain and drooping flowers. Ye sprites and fairies of the ai


Size: 1317px × 1896px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No

Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookidpoeticalwork, bookyear1906