 | The poetical works of Lucy Larcom |  |
242
ON THE LEDGE.
Restored unto life by the sun and the breeze!
Rich balsams float down from the resinous trees,
Stirring into quick health every pulse of the air:
Released once again from imprisoning care,
At the gate of green pastures my soul lieth free,
And to go in or out is refreshment to me.
Rich balsams float down from the resinous trees,
Stirring into quick health every pulse of the air:
Released once again from imprisoning care,
At the gate of green pastures my soul lieth free,
And to go in or out is refreshment to me.
Lo, yonder is Paradise! Softly below,
The river that watereth Eden doth flow!
I behold, through blue gaps in the mountainous west,
Height ascending on height, the abodes of the blest:
And I cannot tell whether to climb were more sweet
Than to lap me in beauty spread out at my feet.
The river that watereth Eden doth flow!
I behold, through blue gaps in the mountainous west,
Height ascending on height, the abodes of the blest:
And I cannot tell whether to climb were more sweet
Than to lap me in beauty spread out at my feet.
There sways a white cloud on yon loftiest peak,
A wind from beyond it is fanning my cheek;
Through the oak and the birch glides a musical shiver,
A ripple just silvers the dusk of the river.
—Though I may not know how, each is part of the whole
Perfect flood-tide of peace that is brimming my soul.
A wind from beyond it is fanning my cheek;
Through the oak and the birch glides a musical shiver,
A ripple just silvers the dusk of the river.
—Though I may not know how, each is part of the whole
Perfect flood-tide of peace that is brimming my soul.
Here is shelter and outlook, deep rest and wide room;
The pine woods behind, breathing balm out of gloom;
Before, the great hills over vast levels lean,—
A glory of purple, a splendor of green.
As a new earth and heaven, ye are mine once again.
Ye beautiful meadows and mountains of Maine!
The pine woods behind, breathing balm out of gloom;
Before, the great hills over vast levels lean,—
A glory of purple, a splendor of green.
As a new earth and heaven, ye are mine once again.
Ye beautiful meadows and mountains of Maine!
Bethel, Me., September, 1879.
| The poetical works of Lucy Larcom | |