 | Poems of home and country |  |
340
SALUTATION TO THE VILLAGE.
Little vale, with fairy meadows!
Trees, that spread your leafy hands!
Flowers, clothed in softest beauty,
Lovelier than eastern lands!
Village! home of every treasure,
Thee we sing in strains of pleasure;
Village in the silent vale,
Lovely village! thee we hail!
Trees, that spread your leafy hands!
Flowers, clothed in softest beauty,
Lovelier than eastern lands!
Village! home of every treasure,
Thee we sing in strains of pleasure;
Village in the silent vale,
Lovely village! thee we hail!
How thy pleasant evening-shadows
Make our troubled passions cease;
And they thy bright and purling rivers
Fill our souls with hallowed peace.
Village! tender thoughts promoting,
Like the clouds in azure floating;
Village in the silent vale,
Lovely village! thee we hail!
Make our troubled passions cease;
And they thy bright and purling rivers
Fill our souls with hallowed peace.
Village! tender thoughts promoting,
Like the clouds in azure floating;
Village in the silent vale,
Lovely village! thee we hail!
In thy green and sunny pathways,
Near thy bright and glassy streams,
Free from care we love to wander,
Cheered by summer's radiant beams:
Scenes of sweetest recollection,
Sacred to the soul's reflection,
Village in the silent vale,
Lovely village! thee we hail!
Near thy bright and glassy streams,
Free from care we love to wander,
Cheered by summer's radiant beams:
Scenes of sweetest recollection,
Sacred to the soul's reflection,
Village in the silent vale,
Lovely village! thee we hail!
| Poems of home and country | |