 | [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
70
THE BETTER LAND.
Know ye the land where the roses and lilies
Are bright on the hills, as the wing of a bird,—
Where down in the depths of the beautiful valleys
The song of the worshipper always is heard?
Are bright on the hills, as the wing of a bird,—
Where down in the depths of the beautiful valleys
The song of the worshipper always is heard?
'T is up where they mourn not o'er time and its fleetness,
But, free from the cumbering cries of the clod,
Their songs are the chains that in rapturous sweetness
Link men to the angels, and angels to God!
But, free from the cumbering cries of the clod,
Their songs are the chains that in rapturous sweetness
Link men to the angels, and angels to God!
Sometimes with the eve in her starry tiara
And mantle of gold sitting down in the west,
Like echoes of harps from a far-away prairie,
Faint melodies float from the land of the blest.
And mantle of gold sitting down in the west,
Like echoes of harps from a far-away prairie,
Faint melodies float from the land of the blest.
And sometimes, when sighing for one who would love me
And share with me always in sadness or glee,
I see, from a soft island floating above me,
A pale hand of beauty that beckons to me!
And share with me always in sadness or glee,
I see, from a soft island floating above me,
A pale hand of beauty that beckons to me!
| [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |