 | The poems and prose writings of Sumner Lincoln Fairfield |  |
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AN EVENING SONG OF PIEDMONT.
Ave Maria! 'tis life's holiest hour,
The starlight wedding of the earth and heaven,
When music breathes its perfume from the flower,
And high revealings to the heart are given;
Soft o'er the meadows steals the dewy air,
Like dreams of bliss, the deep blue ether glows,
And the stream murmurs round its islets fair
The tender nightsong of a charmed repose.
The starlight wedding of the earth and heaven,
When music breathes its perfume from the flower,
And high revealings to the heart are given;
Soft o'er the meadows steals the dewy air,
Like dreams of bliss, the deep blue ether glows,
And the stream murmurs round its islets fair
The tender nightsong of a charmed repose.
Ave Maria! 't is the hour of love,
The kiss of rapture and the linked embrace,
The hallowed converse in the dim still grove,
The elysium of a heart-revealing face,
When all is beautiful—for we are blest,
When all is lovely—for we are beloved,
When all is silent—for our passions rest,
When all is faithful—for our hopes are proved.
The kiss of rapture and the linked embrace,
The hallowed converse in the dim still grove,
The elysium of a heart-revealing face,
When all is beautiful—for we are blest,
When all is lovely—for we are beloved,
When all is silent—for our passions rest,
When all is faithful—for our hopes are proved.
Ave Maria! 't is the hour of prayer,
Of hushed communion with ourselves and heaven,
When our waked hearts their inmost thoughts declare,
High, pure, far searching, like the light of even;
When hope becomes fruition and we feel
The holy earnest of eternal peace,
That bids our pride before the Omniscient kneel,
That bids our wild and warring passions cease.
Of hushed communion with ourselves and heaven,
When our waked hearts their inmost thoughts declare,
High, pure, far searching, like the light of even;
When hope becomes fruition and we feel
The holy earnest of eternal peace,
That bids our pride before the Omniscient kneel,
That bids our wild and warring passions cease.
Ave Maria! soft the vesper hymn
Floats through the cloisters of yon holy pile,
And 'mid the stillness of the nightwatch dim
Attendant spirits seem to hear and smile!
Hark! hath it ceased? The vestal seeks her cell,
And reads her heart—a melancholy tale!
A song of happier years, whose echoes swell
O'er her lost love mid pale bereavement's wail.
Floats through the cloisters of yon holy pile,
And 'mid the stillness of the nightwatch dim
Attendant spirits seem to hear and smile!
Hark! hath it ceased? The vestal seeks her cell,
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A song of happier years, whose echoes swell
O'er her lost love mid pale bereavement's wail.
Ave Maria! let our prayers ascend
For them whose holy offices afford
No joy in heaven—on earth without a friend—
That true though faded image of the Lord!
For them in vain the face of nature glows,
For them in vain the sun in glory burns,
The harrow'd heart consumes in fiery woes,
And meets despair and death where'er it turns.
For them whose holy offices afford
No joy in heaven—on earth without a friend—
That true though faded image of the Lord!
For them in vain the face of nature glows,
For them in vain the sun in glory burns,
The harrow'd heart consumes in fiery woes,
And meets despair and death where'er it turns.
Ave Maria! in the deep pine wood,
On the clear stream and o'er the azure sky
Bland twilight smiles, and starry solitude
Breathes hope in every breeze that wanders by.
Ave Maria! may our last hour come
As bright, as pure, as gentle, heaven! as this!
Let faith attend us smiling to the tomb,
And life and death are both the heirs of bliss!
On the clear stream and o'er the azure sky
Bland twilight smiles, and starry solitude
Breathes hope in every breeze that wanders by.
Ave Maria! may our last hour come
As bright, as pure, as gentle, heaven! as this!
Let faith attend us smiling to the tomb,
And life and death are both the heirs of bliss!
| The poems and prose writings of Sumner Lincoln Fairfield | |