Page:Poems Acton.djvu/56

Wilt thou not, ah, then, remain,
Brightening my thoughts again?
Much I love thy joyous ray
Sunbeam, pass not yet away!

Gentle child! I'm call'd afar,
Higher than the gleaming star,
Distant realms to shine upon,
Ere my daily task is done.
O'er the mountain-tops I go,
Sparkling on the crusted snow,
And within the valley green
Cheeringly my light is seen.
The captive, in his prison cell,
Loves to meet my glance full well;
For my coming seems to bring
Solace to his suffering.
To the dying one I go,
With my soft and sunny glow,
And the bed of sickness light
With my smile of summer bright:
Peasant's cot and stately tower,
Rushing stream and greenwood bower,
All must greeted be by me
Ere, fair child, I look on thee.

Joyous sunbeam! linger not;
Haste thee to each distant spot.