 | Rhymes with reason and without |  |
117
A GLANCE OUT INTO THE COOL.
“And a' babbled of green fields.”
A burning sun above is gleaming,
And, as we bask beneath its ray,
The yearning fancy, in its dreaming,
Wandereth from the town away;
And, as we bask beneath its ray,
The yearning fancy, in its dreaming,
Wandereth from the town away;
Wandereth to the dim recesses,
Out in the old wood's spreading shade,
Where the cool circling air e'er blesses,
Where the hot sunbeams ne'er have strayed;
Out in the old wood's spreading shade,
Where the cool circling air e'er blesses,
Where the hot sunbeams ne'er have strayed;
To where the pine-trees' mournful breathing
Lures the mind to peaceful themes,
Like voice of some good spirit, wreathing
Heaven's sweet cadence with its dreams;
Lures the mind to peaceful themes,
Like voice of some good spirit, wreathing
Heaven's sweet cadence with its dreams;
To where, remote from habitation,
Within a deep and rocky dell,
O'erarching trees, in exultation,
Guard in their shade the little well,
Within a deep and rocky dell,
O'erarching trees, in exultation,
Guard in their shade the little well,
118
That through the rocky chancel stealeth,
With a low-murmuring song of bliss,
Till brighter blooms the flower that feeleth
The inspiration of its kiss;
With a low-murmuring song of bliss,
Till brighter blooms the flower that feeleth
The inspiration of its kiss;
To where lone paths, 'neath sombre shadows,
Court to romantic haunts away,
Where purling brooks, in emerald meadows,
Glow lovely in the light of day;
Court to romantic haunts away,
Where purling brooks, in emerald meadows,
Glow lovely in the light of day;
To where bright birds the morn awaken,
Greeting its coming with their lays,
And, with a joyousness unshaken,
Make glad the whole long summer days;
Greeting its coming with their lays,
And, with a joyousness unshaken,
Make glad the whole long summer days;
To where old Ocean, wildly dashing,
Pours its broad flood upon the shore,
The mighty volume thundering, crashing,
Speaks freedom in its awful roar;
Pours its broad flood upon the shore,
The mighty volume thundering, crashing,
Speaks freedom in its awful roar;
To where deep lakes, mid lofty mountains,
Shine back upon the summer sky,
Where icy rills, from secret fountains,
The flower-decked path come trickling by,—
Trickling o'er sands of pearly whiteness,
Pouring their treasures at his feet,
Tempting the eye with crystal brightness,
Tempting the lips with waters sweet.
Shine back upon the summer sky,
Where icy rills, from secret fountains,
The flower-decked path come trickling by,—
Trickling o'er sands of pearly whiteness,
Pouring their treasures at his feet,
Tempting the eye with crystal brightness,
Tempting the lips with waters sweet.
119
But, like the artist, whose creation
He worshipped as a thing divine,
So we, in Nature's contemplation,
Yearn to do homage at her shrine.
He worshipped as a thing divine,
So we, in Nature's contemplation,
Yearn to do homage at her shrine.
Away, vain phantom! fond illusion,
Waking discontent and doubt!
Say, what to him is this profusion,
Who, like Sterne's starling, “can't get out.”
Waking discontent and doubt!
Say, what to him is this profusion,
Who, like Sterne's starling, “can't get out.”
| Rhymes with reason and without | |