NATURE.
1845.
Light o'er the valley the soft winds are falling,
Caressing each floweret and leaf budding there;
While the voice of the birds, with their music, seem calling
On the spirit of peace that floats through the calm air.
Light o'er the valley the soft winds are falling,
Caressing each floweret and leaf budding there;
While the voice of the birds, with their music, seem calling
On the spirit of peace that floats through the calm air.
Sweet are the zephyrs now hovering around thee,
And sweeter the fragrance of each tiny flower;
While the bright sun is smiling in radiance above thee,
Let thy heart own the magic of beauty's deep power.
And sweeter the fragrance of each tiny flower;
While the bright sun is smiling in radiance above thee,
Let thy heart own the magic of beauty's deep power.
There's a bliss to the heart, while the spirit is keeping
A home for all things that are lovely on earth;—
When Nature, awake—or its image, when sleeping—
Reflects in that bosom each vision of worth.
A home for all things that are lovely on earth;—
When Nature, awake—or its image, when sleeping—
Reflects in that bosom each vision of worth.
There is no shade of sorrow too deep and enduring,
No happiness fading for ever away,
No happiness fading for ever away,
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