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Such was the vale. And then within it played Edward, a child, and Jane, a little maid.

I see them now no more, where once they stood
Beside the brook, or 'neath the sloping wood.
The brook flows lonely on o'er mimic mound,
No longer made to leap with fairy bound.
Then, as they built the little dam and mill,
Their tongues went prattling with the prattling rill,
As if the babes and stream were playmates three,
With cheerful hearts, and singing merrily.
The tiny labour's o'er; the song is done;
The children sang: the rill sings on alone.

How like eternity doth Nature seem To life of man,-that short and fitful dream! I look around me; nowhere can I trace Lines of decay that mark our human race. These are the murmuring waters, these the flowers

I mused o'er in my earlier, better hours.

Like sounds and scents of yesterday they come: Long years have past since this was last my home!

And I am weak, and toil-worn is my frame;

But all the vale shuts in is still the same:

'Tis I alone am changed; they know me not:

I feel a stranger, or as one forgot.

DANA.

A

THE GLADNESS OF NATURE.

39

THE GLADNESS OF NATURE.

Is this a time to be cloudy and sad,

When our mother Nature laughs around;
When even the deep blue heavens look glad,

And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground?

There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and wren,
And the gossip of swallows through all the sky;
The ground-squirrel gaily chirps by his den,

And the wilding bee hums merrily by.

The clouds are at play in the azure space,

And their shadows at play on the bright green vale;
And here they stretch to the frolic chase,
And there they roll on the easy gale.

There's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower;

There's a titter of winds in that beechen tree;

There's a smile on the fruit, and a smile on the flower,
And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea.

And look at the broad-faced Sun, how he smiles
On the dewy earth that smiles in his ray,
On the leaping waters and gay young isles!
Ay, look, and he'll smile thy gloom away.

BRYANT.

THE SKIES.

AY! gloriously thou standest there,
Beautiful, boundless Firmament !
That, swelling wide o'er earth and air,
And round the horizon bent,

With thy bright vault, and sapphire wall,
Dost overhang and circle all.

Far, far below thee, tall old trees
Arise, and piles built up of old;
And hills, whose ancient summits freeze
In the fierce light and cold.

The eagle soars his utmost height,

Yet far thou stretchest o'er his flight.

Thou hast thy frowns-with thee on high The storm has made his airy seat; Beyond that soft blue curtain lie

His stores of rain and sleet.

Thence the consuming lightnings break, There the strong hurricanes awake.

THE SKIES.

Yet art thou prodigal of smiles—

Smiles, sweeter than thy frowns are stern : Earth sends, from all her thousand isles,

A shout at thy return.

The glory that comes down from thee
Bathes in deep joy the land and sea.

The sun, the gorgeous sun, is thine,

The pomp that brings and shuts the day,
The clouds that round him change and shine,
The airs that fan his way.

Thence look the thoughtful stars, and there
The meek moon walks the silent air.

The sunny Italy may boast

The beauteous tints that flush her skies; And lovely, round the Grecian coast,

May thy blue pillars rise.

I only know how fair they stand,
Around my own beloved land.

And they are fair: a charm is theirs,

That earth, the proud green earth, has not—

With all the forms, and hues, and airs

That haunt her sweetest spot.

We gaze upon thy calm, pure sphere,

And read of Heaven's eternal year.

4I

Oh, when, amid the throng of men,

The heart grows sick of hollow mirth, How willingly we turn us then

Away from this cold earth,

And look into thy azure breast,
For seats of innocence and rest!

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