8
poems.
'T is borne upon the midnight air,
The moon-beams breathe the sound,
The little brook that murmurs by
In solitude profound,
The moon-beams breathe the sound,
The little brook that murmurs by
In solitude profound,
In happy unison unite,
And sing one joyous song;
The ¢ universal law of love,"
To all alike belong.
And sing one joyous song;
The ¢ universal law of love,"
To all alike belong.
It moves unseen in every breast,
With influence from above;
We feel and own the hidden power
That whispers—"God is Love."
With influence from above;
We feel and own the hidden power
That whispers—"God is Love."
ON HEARING A LITTLE BIRD AT TWILIGHT SINGING ON A GRAVE.
Say, lovely warbler, dost thou know
The sacred dust that lies below
That little mound?
Thou dweller of the airy deep,
Why dost thou come to sing and weep
On hallowed ground?
The sacred dust that lies below
That little mound?
Thou dweller of the airy deep,
Why dost thou come to sing and weep
On hallowed ground?
