 | Poems of home and country |  |
339
OUR PLEASANT VILLAGE.
Oh, see how bright and sweetly shines
Our village in the evening,
While crimson clouds and streaks of gold
Their fairy forms are weaving!
How peaceful is the dewy air!
No place on earth is half so fair.
Our village in the evening,
While crimson clouds and streaks of gold
Their fairy forms are weaving!
How peaceful is the dewy air!
No place on earth is half so fair.
Look, how the polished window-panes
The parting sunbeams lighten;
And autumn's scarlet-colored leaves,
Touched by the red rays, brighten.
Oh, see our pretty village there!
No place on earth is half so fair.
The parting sunbeams lighten;
And autumn's scarlet-colored leaves,
Touched by the red rays, brighten.
Oh, see our pretty village there!
No place on earth is half so fair.
And now the burning sun is gone;
It only tips the towers
That rise above the temple roof;
And now the darkness lowers.
But still our village glimmers there;
No place on earth is half so fair.
It only tips the towers
That rise above the temple roof;
And now the darkness lowers.
But still our village glimmers there;
No place on earth is half so fair.
| Poems of home and country | |