 | The Vale of Arden and Other Poems |  |
81
THE LARK IN AUTUMN
The day's long splendour dies
A lingering death.—How still
The sea of country lies
Around this island hill.
A lingering death.—How still
The sea of country lies
Around this island hill.
The nestling sunbeams creep
Beneath the boughs; the gold
Fades into gray, and sleep
Descends on vale and wold.
Beneath the boughs; the gold
Fades into gray, and sleep
Descends on vale and wold.
God gave His wine all day,
Eve brings His healing balm;
Care perished far away
In yonder purple calm.
Eve brings His healing balm;
Care perished far away
In yonder purple calm.
82
Joy's river, that hath run
So swiftly, now doth flow
Toward the setting sun
With gathered fulness slow.—
So swiftly, now doth flow
Toward the setting sun
With gathered fulness slow.—
But what bright spirit there
Leaps into music?—Hark!
The poet of the air,
The sky's own soul,—the lark!
Leaps into music?—Hark!
The poet of the air,
The sky's own soul,—the lark!
His song the dayspring seems,
His pinions, as they soar,
Are lustrous with the beams
That light the land no more.
His pinions, as they soar,
Are lustrous with the beams
That light the land no more.
So often, at life's close,
A thrill of youth's delight
Invades its gray repose,
And greets the dawn of night.
A thrill of youth's delight
Invades its gray repose,
And greets the dawn of night.
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