Poems . th this world put onFor him who, with a fervent heart, goes forthUnder the bright and glorious sky, and looksOn duties well performed, and days well spent! WOODS IN WINTER. 237 For him the wind, ay, and the yellow leavesShall have a voice, and give him eloquent shall so hear the solemn hymn, that DeathHas lifted up for all, that he shall goTo his long resting-place without a tear. WOODS IN WINTER. When winter winds are piercing chill, And through the hawthorn blows the gale, With solemn feet I tread the hill,That overbrows the lonely vale. Oer the bare upland, and away Thr
Poems . th this world put onFor him who, with a fervent heart, goes forthUnder the bright and glorious sky, and looksOn duties well performed, and days well spent! WOODS IN WINTER. 237 For him the wind, ay, and the yellow leavesShall have a voice, and give him eloquent shall so hear the solemn hymn, that DeathHas lifted up for all, that he shall goTo his long resting-place without a tear. WOODS IN WINTER. When winter winds are piercing chill, And through the hawthorn blows the gale, With solemn feet I tread the hill,That overbrows the lonely vale. Oer the bare upland, and away Through the long reach of desert woods,The embracing sunbeams chastely play, And gladden these deep solitudes. Where twisted round the barren oak,The summer vine in beauty clung, And summer winds the stillness broke,The crystal icicle is hung. Where, from their frozen urns mute springs Pour out the rivers gradual tide, Shrilly the skaters iron rings, And voices fill the woodland side. F F 238 EARLIER Alas ! how changed from the fair scene,When birds sang out their mellow lay, And winds were soft, and woods were green,And the song ceased not with the day. Bat still wild music is abroad, Pale, desert woods! within your crowd ;And gathering winds, in hoarse accord, Amid the vocal reeds pipe loud. HYMN OF THE MORAVIAN NUNS OF BETHLEHEM. 239 Chill airs and wintry winds ! my ear Has grown familiar with your song; I hear it in the opening year,—I listen and it cheers me long-. HYMN OF THE MORAVIAN NUNS OF BETHLEHEM, AT THE CONSECRATION OF PULASKlS BANNER. When the dying flame of day Through the chancel shot its ray, Far the glimmering tapers shed Faint light on the cowled head; And the censer burning swung, Where, before the altar, hung The blood-red banner, that with prayer Had been consecrated the nuns swTeet hymn was heard the while,Sung low in the dim, mysterious aisle. Take thy banner ! May it waveFroudly oer the good and brave;When the battles distant wailBreaks
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Keywords: ., bookauthorlongfellowhenrywadswo, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1850
