The literary remains of the late Willis Gaylord Clark Including the Ollapodiana Papers, the Spirit Of Life, and a selection from his various prose and poetical writings |
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THE LIFE OF YOUTH. |
 | The literary remains of the late Willis Gaylord Clark |  |
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THE LIFE OF YOUTH.
AIR: ‘ALL ROUND MY HAT.’
There is a time when light, and air, and flowers,
Are shining brightly whereso'er we tread;
When, from the passing of the swift-wing'd hours,
An atmosphere of love and peace is shed;
When hope flits near us, on her angel wings,
And sweetly to the heart her anthem sings.
Are shining brightly whereso'er we tread;
When, from the passing of the swift-wing'd hours,
An atmosphere of love and peace is shed;
When hope flits near us, on her angel wings,
And sweetly to the heart her anthem sings.
Then pleasant transports overcome the bosom,
And days in pictured guise go beaming by;
A softer breath exhaleth from the blossom—
A purer radiance gilds the open sky:
The hues of heaven are poured on every scene—
On the glad waters, and the fields of green.
And days in pictured guise go beaming by;
A softer breath exhaleth from the blossom—
A purer radiance gilds the open sky:
The hues of heaven are poured on every scene—
On the glad waters, and the fields of green.
All then is beauty; from the gay clouds, waving
Whene'er the breeze their golden skirts may stir,
To the blue streams their bloomy borders laving—
The budding orchard, or the vernal fir:
A look of gladness beams where'er we move,
And fills the dancing heart with holy love.
Whene'er the breeze their golden skirts may stir,
To the blue streams their bloomy borders laving—
The budding orchard, or the vernal fir:
A look of gladness beams where'er we move,
And fills the dancing heart with holy love.
With love for Nature, and for Him whose power
Glows in the noontide, or the blush of morn;
Whose smile the waves receive—the tree, the flower—
The vine's rich tendrils, and the ripening corn;
It wakes a Sabbath feeling in the breast—
A tranquil sense of harmony and rest.
Glows in the noontide, or the blush of morn;
Whose smile the waves receive—the tree, the flower—
The vine's rich tendrils, and the ripening corn;
It wakes a Sabbath feeling in the breast—
A tranquil sense of harmony and rest.
This is the Life of Youth!—and oh, how fleeting
The glorious splendors of its morning be!
With changeful hues the wildered fancy cheating,
As moonlight smiles imprint the evening sea;
While the fair sails sweep onward in their pride,
O'er treacherous waves that to dim whirlpools glide.
The glorious splendors of its morning be!
With changeful hues the wildered fancy cheating,
As moonlight smiles imprint the evening sea;
While the fair sails sweep onward in their pride,
O'er treacherous waves that to dim whirlpools glide.
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This is the Life of Youth! Oh, could it linger
About us ever, as de Leon sought;
Nor care, nor sorrow with effacing finger,
Destroy the magic web by fancy wrought,
This earth I could not then call stale and flat,
Nor the dark cypress wreathe ‘all round my hat!’
About us ever, as de Leon sought;
Nor care, nor sorrow with effacing finger,
Destroy the magic web by fancy wrought,
This earth I could not then call stale and flat,
Nor the dark cypress wreathe ‘all round my hat!’
| The literary remains of the late Willis Gaylord Clark | |