32
poems.
And seems to roam 'mid nature's loveliness,
And in her beauties and her stillness finds
Mysterious happiness. The gentle air,
Laden with odour from the sylvan groves,
Breathes bliss around me, and its low sweet voice
Seems the soft whisperings of joy to soothe
The weary heart; and softly peace descends,
Lulls to repose the ruffl'd waves of grief,
Casts to oblivion every earthly thought,
Making fair nature's solitudes appear
Fraught with some bliss of heaven, for we feel
The presence of Jehovah! His power is seen,
His works proclaim him, and his voice is heard
In nature's harmonies.
And in her beauties and her stillness finds
Mysterious happiness. The gentle air,
Laden with odour from the sylvan groves,
Breathes bliss around me, and its low sweet voice
Seems the soft whisperings of joy to soothe
The weary heart; and softly peace descends,
Lulls to repose the ruffl'd waves of grief,
Casts to oblivion every earthly thought,
Making fair nature's solitudes appear
Fraught with some bliss of heaven, for we feel
The presence of Jehovah! His power is seen,
His works proclaim him, and his voice is heard
In nature's harmonies.
AMANDA.
She rests within her peaceful grave,
Beneath th' o'ershadowing hill,
Where forest-trees their branches wave,
And flowers with perfume fill
The trembling air, that never sweeps
In tempests wildly there,
But breathes its requiem while she sleeps,
Like whisperings of prayer.
Beneath th' o'ershadowing hill,
Where forest-trees their branches wave,
And flowers with perfume fill
The trembling air, that never sweeps
In tempests wildly there,
But breathes its requiem while she sleeps,
Like whisperings of prayer.
