POEMS.
19
And sweet the pleasant sense of rest
The whole scene stamps upon the breast,
Within this shadowy place.
Away from all the city's din,
One marvels that a thought of sin
Should from the heart a conquest win,
With God and Nature close shut in
And speaking face to face!
The whole scene stamps upon the breast,
Within this shadowy place.
Away from all the city's din,
One marvels that a thought of sin
Should from the heart a conquest win,
With God and Nature close shut in
And speaking face to face!
UNREST.
"Music that gentlier on the spirit lies
Than tir'd eyelids on tir'd eyes."—Tennyson.
Than tir'd eyelids on tir'd eyes."—Tennyson.
SING me a song to-night,
Unearthly, calm and bright,
With nothing sad to mar its upward strain.
Open the casement wide,
Let in the warm sun tide,
The gentle murmur of the slumb'rous main.
Unearthly, calm and bright,
With nothing sad to mar its upward strain.
Open the casement wide,
Let in the warm sun tide,
The gentle murmur of the slumb'rous main.
Touch with your fingers fair
Some dim and tranquil air,
That like a spirit seems to float around,
Carrying upon its wings
A thought of better things,
Dreams that are like the angels, golden crowned.
Some dim and tranquil air,
That like a spirit seems to float around,
Carrying upon its wings
A thought of better things,
Dreams that are like the angels, golden crowned.
Majestic, full and long,
Must be to-night your song,
If you would soothe my heart's unquiet rest.
Must be to-night your song,
If you would soothe my heart's unquiet rest.
