poems.
77
Shed joy around; nor e'en the waves' low tone
Whispers soft music at the day's decline.
A sadness droppeth from the autumn skies,
And a stern threatening of coming storms;—
Thus must earth's beauty fade without the light
Of the fair summer's sun; and I do mourn,
For I have lov'd its grandeur. Shine once more,
Sweet sun of spring! and, with the birds, my voice
Again shall mingle its rejoicing hymn.
Whispers soft music at the day's decline.
A sadness droppeth from the autumn skies,
And a stern threatening of coming storms;—
Thus must earth's beauty fade without the light
Of the fair summer's sun; and I do mourn,
For I have lov'd its grandeur. Shine once more,
Sweet sun of spring! and, with the birds, my voice
Again shall mingle its rejoicing hymn.
TO MY CANARIES.
Oh, when the earliest beams of light
Illume the sky, my birds then sing!
While trees and flow'rs and streams are bright,
Lift, lift the gentle flut'ring wing,—
Sweet birds! sing blithely to the morn
That rises o'er the glowing earth,
While dewy drops the flow'rs adorn,
And young life utters joyous mirth.
Oh, sweetly sing,
And may your echoes through my chamber ring
Illume the sky, my birds then sing!
While trees and flow'rs and streams are bright,
Lift, lift the gentle flut'ring wing,—
Sweet birds! sing blithely to the morn
That rises o'er the glowing earth,
While dewy drops the flow'rs adorn,
And young life utters joyous mirth.
Oh, sweetly sing,
And may your echoes through my chamber ring
The summer woods are bright and fair,
And flow'rs breathe sweetest fragrance too;
My gentle birds! you love my care,
Nor need to sip the morning dew.
And flow'rs breathe sweetest fragrance too;
My gentle birds! you love my care,
Nor need to sip the morning dew.
