Echoes of Spring :: :: University of Virginia Library

Did you ever wake at morning,
When the sun is shining bright;
Look upon the great horizon,
And behold a wondrous sight?

'Tis a picture men's been trying,
Centuries on centuries past;
No—no tongue can e'er describe it,
Nor no brush complete the task.

'Tis a picture far more greater,
Than an artist ever drew;
Azure sky and golden sunshine—
Grass with diamond-jeweled dew.

Oft the old bards hath attempted,
And the Muse with sighs and tears,
Turned away too deep for utterance,
Lost to whisper in their ears.

And the artistes together,
Gaze with rapturous eyes so long;
One desires to paint the picture,
One desires to sing the song.

But the hand of great Jehovah,
Paints the scene that meets man's eye,
Mingled with gold tinted sunlight,
And the azure in the sky.

So man gaze at early morning,
With perplexing puzzled frown;
And his mind lacks understanding,
As the golden sun goes down.