 | Wood-notes and Church-bells |  |
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On Sending My Poems to the Press.
May God be with thee, little book, I pray;For thou hast ta'en irrevocable flight
Out of thy nest, where many a noon and night
Peaceful I brooded o'er some woodland lay.
God prosper thee upon thine unknown way:
In shady places be a gleam of light,
Bearing beneath thy wings a message bright
To help the mourner through his lonesome day:
And where the tranquil beams of Summer fall
Upon the daisied grass, or the warm glow
Dances round happy hearths, go gently call
Heavenward the thoughts which dwell too much below:
Thus be thy voice like holy Church-bells heard,
Or warble for The Master like a bird!
| Wood-notes and Church-bells | |