Poems (Linn)/The Golden Age
THE GOLDEN AGE.
THE golden age, of which such songs are sung!
Its skies were blue with never-clouded light;
Its west winds whispered of eternal springs,
Its flowers blossomed beautiful and bright.
Its skies were blue with never-clouded light;
Its west winds whispered of eternal springs,
Its flowers blossomed beautiful and bright.
And from its perfect skies the dews distilled
Honey and nectar, and the birds sang gay
The whole year round, while from the willing soil
Fruits sprang, and streams in music flowed away.
Honey and nectar, and the birds sang gay
The whole year round, while from the willing soil
Fruits sprang, and streams in music flowed away.
There love ruled law, for law was only love;
There war came not, for harmony was king.
The golden age! not all in vain its praise,
Not all a myth the glories poets sing.
There war came not, for harmony was king.
The golden age! not all in vain its praise,
Not all a myth the glories poets sing.
To every human heart some moments come
When we catch glimpses of this Paradise;
Swift gleams of light that flood our care-worn souls,
Fast fading visions that refresh our eyes.
When we catch glimpses of this Paradise;
Swift gleams of light that flood our care-worn souls,
Fast fading visions that refresh our eyes.
Yes, there are moments when our souls grow strong,
Uplifted from the daily toil and pain,
The self-inflicted groveling in the dust,
And find the old primeval joy again.
Uplifted from the daily toil and pain,
The self-inflicted groveling in the dust,
And find the old primeval joy again.
This is the golden time of which men tell;
It dwells about us and within for aye,
For in our higher moments it is ours,
The soul's true home, where peace is law alway.
It dwells about us and within for aye,
For in our higher moments it is ours,
The soul's true home, where peace is law alway.