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LINES.
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IS almost midnight's hour, and bright on high,
The moon in placid beauty walks the sky;
The stars, a countless train, attend her way,
And gem her path with many a tribute ray,
Till every envious cloud that passes there,
Transformed to silver, makes her still more fair.
In mellowed light that chastened lustre streams
('er earth and sky, that sleep beneath its beams,
Till Nature seems to thrill beneath the power,
The spell that rests on such a magic hour,
And wakes again her charms for eye and ear,
To bless the lovely night of Summer near;—
To hymn His praise who thus from day to day
Fulfils the pledge of ages passed away,—
And spring-time hope and harvest joy displays,
To many a heart that never throbbed with praise.
IS almost midnight's hour, and bright on high,The moon in placid beauty walks the sky;
The stars, a countless train, attend her way,
And gem her path with many a tribute ray,
Till every envious cloud that passes there,
Transformed to silver, makes her still more fair.
In mellowed light that chastened lustre streams
('er earth and sky, that sleep beneath its beams,
Till Nature seems to thrill beneath the power,
The spell that rests on such a magic hour,
And wakes again her charms for eye and ear,
To bless the lovely night of Summer near;—
To hymn His praise who thus from day to day
Fulfils the pledge of ages passed away,—
And spring-time hope and harvest joy displays,
To many a heart that never throbbed with praise.
At such an hour, the coldest breast must feel
Eternal Nature's silent grandeur thrill
Through every nerve, and melt the icy chain
Of gathering years, to youth's bright Spring again.
Until the cold world's stern.and withering sway,
Wrapt in a dream of childhood, melts away;
And all the tenderness of early years
Bursts forth in breathing sighs, or soft warm tears!
Oh, surely none could stand and gaze alone
On such a scene, nor feel one kindred tone,
Eternal Nature's silent grandeur thrill
Through every nerve, and melt the icy chain
Of gathering years, to youth's bright Spring again.
Until the cold world's stern.and withering sway,
Wrapt in a dream of childhood, melts away;
And all the tenderness of early years
Bursts forth in breathing sighs, or soft warm tears!
Oh, surely none could stand and gaze alone
On such a scene, nor feel one kindred tone,
