. The poets and poetry of America . y skies, Singing in Paradise! No mist nor stain ! He needs must think of her once more. Then, too, the Old Year dieth. How in the grave she lies; And the forests utter a moan. And with his hard, rough hand he wipes Like the voice of one who crieth A tear out of his eyes. In the wilderness alone. Vex not .his ghost! Toiling—rejoicing—sorrowing—Onward through life he goes : Then comes, with an awful roar, Each morning sees some task begin, Gathering and sounding on. Each evening sees it close ; The storm-wind from Labrador, Something attempted—something done,
. The poets and poetry of America . y skies, Singing in Paradise! No mist nor stain ! He needs must think of her once more. Then, too, the Old Year dieth. How in the grave she lies; And the forests utter a moan. And with his hard, rough hand he wipes Like the voice of one who crieth A tear out of his eyes. In the wilderness alone. Vex not .his ghost! Toiling—rejoicing—sorrowing—Onward through life he goes : Then comes, with an awful roar, Each morning sees some task begin, Gathering and sounding on. Each evening sees it close ; The storm-wind from Labrador, Something attempted—something done, The wind Euroclydon, Has earned a nights repose. ; The storm-wind! tl Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, jj Howl! howl! and from the forest For the lesson thou hast taught! 1 Sweep the red leaves away ! Thus at the flaming forge of Life Would, the sins that thou abhorrest, Our fortunes must be wrought, 1 0 soul! could thus decay. Thus on its sounding an-vil shaped !| And be swept away ! Each burning deed and
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1840, booki, booksubjectamericanpoetry
