But now a joy too deep for sound, A peace no other season knows, Hushes the heavens and wraps the ground, The blessing of supreme repose. Away! I will not be, to-day, The only slave of toil and care. Away from desk and dust! away! Beneath the open sky abroad, Among the plants and breathing things, The sinless, peaceful works of God, I'll share the calm the season brings. Come, thou, in whose soft eyes I see From men and all their cares apart. And where, upon the meadow's breast, The blue wild flowers thou gatherest Shall glow yet deeper near thine eyes. Come, and when mid the calm profound, Rest here, beneath the unmoving shade, The village trees their summits rear One tranquil mount the scene o'erlooksThere the hushed winds their sabbath keep, While a near hum from bees and brooks Comes faintly like the breath of sleep. Well may the gazer deem that when, Like this deep quiet that, awhile, Welcomes him to a happier shore. A SCENE ON THE BANKS OF THE HUDSON. COOL shades and dews are round my way, And silence of the early day; Mid the dark rocks that watch his bed, Glitters the mighty Hudson spread, Unrippled, save by drops that fall From shrubs that fringe his mountain wall; And o'er the clear still water swells The music of the Sabbath bells. All, save this little nook of land Suspended in the mimic sky Seems a blue void, above, below, Through which the white clouds come and go. And from the green world's farthest steep I gaze into the airy deep. Loveliest of lovely things are they, On earth, that soonest pass away. The rose that lives its little hour Is prized beyond the sculptured flower. River! in this still hour thou hast Too much of heaven on earth to last; Nor long may thy still waters lie, An image of the glorious sky. THE HURRICANE. LORD of the winds! I feel thee nigh, I know thy breath in the burning sky! And I wait, with a thrill in every vein, For the coming of the hurricane! And lo! on the wing of the heavy gales, Through the boundless arch of heaven he sails; Silent and slow, and terribly strong, The mighty shadow is borne along, Like the dark eternity to come; While the world below, dismayed and dumb, Through the calm of the thick hot atmosphere Looks up at its gloomy folds with fear. They darken fast; and the golden blaze Of the sun is quenched in the lurid haze, A glare that is neither night nor day, A beam that touches, with hues of death, The clouds above and the earth beneath. R |