POEMS.
THE WILLOW-TREES.
Sweet trees, how oft, in early years,
I've sat beneath your quiet shade,
Ere life was clouded o'er with tears,
Or one sweet flow'r had learn'd to fade!
I've sat beneath your quiet shade,
Ere life was clouded o'er with tears,
Or one sweet flow'r had learn'd to fade!
There infant sports and childhood's glee
Were heard through many a summer day
Then ev'ry heart from grief was free,
And life was robed in hues of May.
Were heard through many a summer day
Then ev'ry heart from grief was free,
And life was robed in hues of May.
There first the Sabbath morning gave
Its lesson from the sacred word;
And as we view'd your branches wave,
We learn'd the love of Christ the Lord.
Its lesson from the sacred word;
And as we view'd your branches wave,
We learn'd the love of Christ the Lord.
There, when the early morning rose,
Our father sought his own lov'd seat;
And oft, at dewy ev'ning's close,
He trod that undisturb'd retreat.
Our father sought his own lov'd seat;
And oft, at dewy ev'ning's close,
He trod that undisturb'd retreat.
