|
'Whether on crystal rocks ye rove
|
There is this ineffable charm of scenery and sound in these lines from 'Night':—
'Farewell, green fields and happy grove,
Where flocks have ta'en delight;
Where lambs have nibbled, silent move
The feet of angels bright;
Unseen, they pour blessing,
And joy without ceasing,
On each bud and blossom,
And each sleeping bosom.
'They look in every thoughtless nest,
Where birds are covered warm;
They visit caves of every beast,
To keep them all from harm:
If they see any weeping
That should have been sleeping,
They pour sleep on their head,
And sit down by their bed.'
The same simple and tender mood of soul that originated such child-melodies as 'Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,' which brings tears down the cheeks of the ruggedest sailor, and has touched the secret fount of tears in many an unconfessing heart, handled this 'rural pen' and 'stained that water clear' and wrote that happy song—
'Every child shall joy to hear.'
