Affliction flies, and hope returns ;
Her laugh with brighter splendour burns;
Gay love, with all his smiling train,
And peace, and joy, are here again.
These, these, I know, 'twas Thine to give;
I trusted, and, behold, I live!
To Thee my humble voice I raise;
Forgive, while I presume to praise.
Oh, may I still Thy favour prove!
Still grant me gratitude and love.
Let truth and virtue guide my heart,
Nor peace, nor joy, nor hope depart.
But yet, whate'er my life may be,
My heart shall still repose on Thee!
To Thee my humble voice I raise;
Forgive, while I presume to praise.
JOHN LANGHORNE, 1735-1779.
I WANDER'D lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd
A host of golden daffodils ;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretch'd in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay :
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee;
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company;
I gazed, and gazed, but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought :
For oft when on my couch I lie,
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye,
Which is the bliss of solitude,
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, 1770-1850.
By cool Siloam's shady rill
How sweet the lily grows!
How sweet the breath beneath the hill
Of Sharon's dewy rose !
Lo! such the child whose early feet
The paths of peace have trod;
Whose secret heart, with influence sweet,
Is upward drawn to God!
By cool Siloam's shady rill
The lily must decay;
The rose that blooms beneath the hill
Must shortly fade away.
And soon, too soon, the wintry hour
Of man's maturer age
Will shake the soul with sorrow's power,
And stormy passion's rage.
O Thou, whose infant feet were found
Within Thy Father's shrine!
Whose years, with changeless virtue crown'd,
Were all alike Divine !
Dependent on Thy beauteous breath,
We seek Thy grace alone,
In childhood, manhood, age, and death,
To keep us still Thine own!
REGINALD HEBER, 1783-1826.
STILL let my song a nobler note assume,
And sing th' infusive force of Spring on man:
When heaven and earth, as if contending, vie
To raise his being, and serene his soul,
Can he forbear to join the general smile
Of nature? Can fierce passions vex his breast,
While every gale is peace, and every grove
Is melody? Hence from the beauteous walks
Of flowing Spring, ye sordid sons of earth,
Hard, and unfeeling of another's woe,
Or only lavish to yourselves; away!
But come, ye gen'rous minds, in whose wide thought
Of all His works, creative bounty burns
With warmest beams, and on your open front
And lib'ral eye, sits, from his dark retreat
Inviting modest Want. Nor till invoked
Can restless goodness wait; your active search
Leaves no cold wintry corner unexplored;
Like silent-working Heaven, surprising oft
The lonely heart with unexpected good.
For you the roving spirit of the wind
Blows spring abroad; for you the teeming clouds
Descend in gladsome plenty o'er the world;
And the sun sheds his kindest rays for you,
Ye flower of human race! In these green days
Reviving Sickness lifts her languid head;
Life flows afresh; and young-eyed Health exalts
The whole creation round.
The sunny glade, and feels an inward bliss
Spring o'er her heart, beyond the power of kings To purchase. Pure serenity apace
Induces thought and contemplation still.
By swift degrees the love of nature works,
And warms the bosom; till at last sublimed
To rapture and enthusiastic heat,
We feel the present Deity, and taste
The joy of God to see a happy world.
JAMES THOMSON, 1700-1748.
SWEET is the prayer, whose holy stream
In earnest pleading flows;
Devotion dwells upon the theme,
And warm and warmer glows.
Faith grasps the blessing she desires;
Hope points the upward gaze;
And love, celestial love, inspires
The eloquence of praise.
But sweeter far that still small voice,
Heard by no human ear;
When God has made the heart rejoice,
And dried the bitter tear.
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