. Bryant. Poems from the works of William Cullen Bryant. continual worship;—Nature, here,In the tranquillity that thou dost love,Enjoys thy presence. Noiselessly, around,From perch to perch, the solitary birdPasses; and yon clear spring, that, midst its herbs,Wells softly forth and wandering steeps the rootsOf half the mighty forest, tells no taleOf all the good it does. Thou hast not leftThyself without a witness, in the shades,Of thy perfections. Grandeur, strength, and grace As now they stand, massy, and tall, j Are here to speak of thee. This and dark. mighty oak— Fit shrine for humble wor
. Bryant. Poems from the works of William Cullen Bryant. continual worship;—Nature, here,In the tranquillity that thou dost love,Enjoys thy presence. Noiselessly, around,From perch to perch, the solitary birdPasses; and yon clear spring, that, midst its herbs,Wells softly forth and wandering steeps the rootsOf half the mighty forest, tells no taleOf all the good it does. Thou hast not leftThyself without a witness, in the shades,Of thy perfections. Grandeur, strength, and grace As now they stand, massy, and tall, j Are here to speak of thee. This and dark. mighty oak— Fit shrine for humble worshipper to I By whose immovable stem I stand and seemAlmost annihilated—not a prince,In all that proud old world beyond the deep,Eer wore his crown as loftily as he holdCommunion with his Maker. These dim vaults,These winding aisles, of human pomp or pride 28 BRYANT. Wears the green coronal of leaves Is beauty, such as blooms not in the with which glare Thy hand has graced him. Nestled I Of the broad sun. That delicate at his root forest £V~ ... w&zmZ With scented breath and look so like a smile,Seems, as it issues from the shapeless mould, An emanation of the indwelling Life,A visible token of the upholding Love,That are the soul of this great uni-verse. 29 LEAFLETS FROM STANDARD AUTHORS. My heart is awed within me when I thinkOf the great miracle that still goes on,In silence, round me—the perpetual workOf thy creation, finished, yet renewedForever. Written on thy works I readThe lesson of thy own ! all grow old and die—but see again,How on the faltering footsteps of decayYouth presses—ever gay and beauti-ful youthIn all its beautiful forms. These lofty treesWave not less proudly that their ancestorsMoulder beneath them. Oh, there is not lostOne of earths charms: upon her bosom yet,After the flight of untold centuries,The freshness of her far beginning liesAnd yet shall lie. Life mocks the idle hateOf his arch-enemy Death—yea, seats himselfU
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