His voice, O Father, still upholds
Each impious sect in turn,
And men from his impassion'd words
Pernicious errors learn."
"Rise, daughter, rise," the saint replied,
"Take courage from thy fears;
The child will not be lost for whom
A mother sheds such tears."
For Austin unbaptized it was
That weeping mother pray'd,
And on Saint Austin's breast at last
Her dying head was laid.
6. Life a Flower of the Field.
The sun had risen, the air was sweet,
And brightly shone the morning dew,
And cheerful sounds and busy feet
Pass'd the lone meadows through;
While rolling like a flowery sea,
In waves of gay and spiry bloom,
The hay-fields rippled merrily,
In beauty and perfume.
I saw the early mowers pass
At morn along that pleasant dell,
And rank on rank the shining grass
Around them quickly fell.
I look'd, and far and wide at noon
The morning's fallen flowers were spread;
And all, as rose the evening moon,
Beneath the scythe were dead.
