University of Virginia Library

LINES,

WRITTEN IN MY GARDEN AT ---.

Birds, bells, and lulling bees, and measured oars,
Mixed with a calm the raptured Soul adores,
Here captive make the senses and the heart,
Each lovely sound would lovely be apart,
But thus commingling in one full-toned strain,
'Twould charm the deaf dull ear of groaning pain,
Disperse the thoughts of Sorrow's mournful breast,
And bid delight a moment be its guest;
Exalt the worldling's grovelling fancies even,
And give the erring Soul one dream of Heaven!
Yet, no! this harmony might discord prove
To hearts not gently tuned to perfect love;
It is the bosom's concord that alone
Can lend its sweetness to each separate tone.
Birds, bells, and bees, and dip of measured oars
Should grating be as when the night wind roars
Against the watcher's casement, if no note
From the deep Soul might with them thrilling float,
And stamp them into music—if it send
No breath of bliss with their sweet sounds to blend,
If no pure tone of glad and calm assent
Spring from the peaceful bosom of content,
No Jubilate from the heart bursts forth
To lend them mystic and melodious worth—
Then glad am I by this sure test to find
That peace and hope are throned within my mind—
For all is music to my ear and heart,
While thus I linger sheltered, and apart
From the World's busy, noisy, troubled scenes,
From which my Spirit with aversion leans—
No tone discordant o'er my sense doth jar,
No sigh the enchanted melody can mar—
But all is pleasure still, for all is peace,
And need I fear the blessed charm should cease?
No! all must still be gladness and repose,
And harmony, which no distraction knows—
All, still sweet music to my ear and heart,
Dearest! since discord comes not where thou art,
While truth and faith and gratitude combine
To make me wholly Love's and wholly thine!