 | Idyls and pastorals |  |
45
ON QUIET WATERS.
O lightly moored the lilies lie,And look up to the golden sky.
Softly they breathe into the air
Their holy fragrance everywhere:
Delicate, dewy-fresh and sweet,
It steals our charmèd sense to greet.
In each pure chalice, dazzling white,
Sits throned a spirit of delight
Our grateful souls with joy to fill,
A pleasure sacred, deep and still,
O lightly moored the lilies lie
Afloat beneath the glowing sky!
46
Safe past the changing shores we steer,
And watch the swallow dip his wing,
And hear the hidden thrushes sing
Each to his mate within the wood,
Safe in their happy solitude.
O perfect morn! O peaceful time!
O life that blossoms at its prime!
We dream in Eden, thou and I,
Afloat beneath the golden sky.
| Idyls and pastorals | |