Thomas Cole's poetry the collected poems of America's foremost painter of the Hudson River School reflecting his feelings for nature and the romantic spirit of the Nineteenth Century |
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 | Thomas Cole's poetry |  |
'Twas that bless'd hour
When angels, hov'ring in the crimson clouds,
Commune with man whose grov'lling instincts low
Have been cast off as robes of earthliness
Beside the fount of nature's solitude—
Over my senses stole a deep repose,
And dreams which are but wakefulness of soul,
A brief exemption from encumb'ring earth—
I heard a sound—'twas wild and strange—a voice
As of ten thousand—musical it was
A gush of richest concord—deep and slow—
A song that fill'd the universal air—
When angels, hov'ring in the crimson clouds,
Commune with man whose grov'lling instincts low
Have been cast off as robes of earthliness
Beside the fount of nature's solitude—
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And dreams which are but wakefulness of soul,
A brief exemption from encumb'ring earth—
I heard a sound—'twas wild and strange—a voice
As of ten thousand—musical it was
A gush of richest concord—deep and slow—
A song that fill'd the universal air—
| Thomas Cole's poetry | |