 | The early poems of John Greenleaf Whittier |  |
283
THE ALBUM.
The dark-eyed daughters of the Sun,
At morn and evening hours,
O'er-hung their graceful shrines alone
With wreaths of dewy flowers.
At morn and evening hours,
O'er-hung their graceful shrines alone
With wreaths of dewy flowers.
Not vainly did those fair ones cull
Their gifts by stream and wood;
The Good is always beautiful,
The Beautiful is good!
Their gifts by stream and wood;
The Good is always beautiful,
The Beautiful is good!
We live not in their simple day,
Our Northern blood is cold,
And few the offerings which we lay
On other shrines than Gold.
Our Northern blood is cold,
And few the offerings which we lay
On other shrines than Gold.
With Scripture texts to chill and ban
The heart's fresh morning hours,
The heavy-footed Puritan
Goes trampling down the flowers;
The heart's fresh morning hours,
The heavy-footed Puritan
Goes trampling down the flowers;
Nor thinks of Him who sat of old
Where Syrian lilies grew,
And from their mingling shade and gold
A holy lesson drew.
Where Syrian lilies grew,
And from their mingling shade and gold
A holy lesson drew.
284
Yet lady, shall this book of thine,
Where Love his gifts has brought,
Become to thee a Persian shrine,
O'er-hung with flowers of thought.
Where Love his gifts has brought,
Become to thee a Persian shrine,
O'er-hung with flowers of thought.
| The early poems of John Greenleaf Whittier | |