 | [The peasant boy, in] The imperial |  |
133
THE PEASANT BOY.
When evening zephyrs play
Melodious and sweet on sportive wings,
And harvest moon's first ray
O'er mount and hill its lustre flings,
And night around her dewy incense throws,—
Forth to his toil the youthful peasant goes.
Melodious and sweet on sportive wings,
And harvest moon's first ray
O'er mount and hill its lustre flings,
And night around her dewy incense throws,—
Forth to his toil the youthful peasant goes.
Mark his calm aspect now;
In thoughtful mood he looks upon the sky,
A blissful peace is on his brow,
And holy cheer is beaming from his eye:
Why thus impassioned doth he linger there?
Earth's vesper hymn has called his soul to prayer.
In thoughtful mood he looks upon the sky,
A blissful peace is on his brow,
And holy cheer is beaming from his eye:
Why thus impassioned doth he linger there?
Earth's vesper hymn has called his soul to prayer.
This fair and free-born youth
Amid these scenes his infant carols sung,
And still, with rustic truth,
He meekly dwells his native hills among:
Health and content, in measure rich and free,
Make sweet the dawn of lowly destiny.
Amid these scenes his infant carols sung,
And still, with rustic truth,
He meekly dwells his native hills among:
Health and content, in measure rich and free,
Make sweet the dawn of lowly destiny.
134
The cheerful sabbath hour,
Affection's ministry, and Nature's voice,
The smiling by-way flower
And fragrant air his undimmed eye rejoice:
Deep love and faith are founts of living joy
In the clear bosom of the peasant boy.
Affection's ministry, and Nature's voice,
The smiling by-way flower
And fragrant air his undimmed eye rejoice:
Deep love and faith are founts of living joy
In the clear bosom of the peasant boy.
| [The peasant boy, in] The imperial | |