Voices from the Lakes, and Other Poems By the Rev. Charles D. Bell |
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A MAY EVENING AT AMBLESIDE. |
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 | Voices from the Lakes, and Other Poems |  |
17
A MAY EVENING AT AMBLESIDE.
The happy hills round Windermere,
Look purple through the evening air;
The light falls soft on field and fell,
On rugged scar and wooded dell.
Look purple through the evening air;
The light falls soft on field and fell,
On rugged scar and wooded dell.
A leafy splendour crowns the scene,
The oak puts forth her tender green;
The branching pine stands dark and high,
Against the pale and solemn sky.
The oak puts forth her tender green;
The branching pine stands dark and high,
Against the pale and solemn sky.
The fragrant thorn is flowered with May,
Whose snows rest thick on every spray;
And beech and birch-tree bending make
A mirror of the placid lake.
Whose snows rest thick on every spray;
And beech and birch-tree bending make
A mirror of the placid lake.
The noise of streams is in the ear,
And rapid Rotha murmurs near;
While birds from woods and copses dim
Chant loud and clear their evening hymn.
And rapid Rotha murmurs near;
While birds from woods and copses dim
Chant loud and clear their evening hymn.
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How mellow is the throstle's note!
What music swells the robin's throat!
And hark! from far the cuckoo's cry,
Borne on the breeze, comes wandering by.
What music swells the robin's throat!
And hark! from far the cuckoo's cry,
Borne on the breeze, comes wandering by.
See how the tender opal light
Burns like a crown on Loughrigg's height;
While Fairfield's crest in shadow lies,
Veiled in empurpled mysteries!
Burns like a crown on Loughrigg's height;
While Fairfield's crest in shadow lies,
Veiled in empurpled mysteries!
O peaceful hours! O happy time!
O Spring, in all thy glorious prime!
I feel the spirit of the scene
Thrill me with pleasure pure and keen.
O Spring, in all thy glorious prime!
I feel the spirit of the scene
Thrill me with pleasure pure and keen.
O God so great! O God so good!
To spread such wealth of lake and wood,
To pile the mountains, arch the sky,
Low at Thy feet in praise I lie!
To spread such wealth of lake and wood,
To pile the mountains, arch the sky,
Low at Thy feet in praise I lie!
Father of mercies, I would see
Thy love in all, and all in Thee;
Proofs of Thy goodness and Thy grace,
Through sight and sound in every place.
Thy love in all, and all in Thee;
Proofs of Thy goodness and Thy grace,
Through sight and sound in every place.
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And oft, when gazing o'er this land,
Decked by Thy kind and liberal hand,
I ask, in wonderment of bliss,
“Was Eden's self so fair as this?”
Decked by Thy kind and liberal hand,
I ask, in wonderment of bliss,
“Was Eden's self so fair as this?”
| Voices from the Lakes, and Other Poems | |