SUNSHINE.
Let those who will accord their song to hail the revel blaze
That only comes where feasting reigns and courtly gallants gaze!
But the sweet and merry sunshine is a braver theme to sing,
For it kindles round the peasant while it bursts above the king.
That only comes where feasting reigns and courtly gallants gaze!
But the sweet and merry sunshine is a braver theme to sing,
For it kindles round the peasant while it bursts above the king.
We hear young voices round us now swell loud in eager joy,
We're jostled by the tiny child, and sturdy, romping boy;
In city street and hamlet path, we see blithe forms arise;
And childhood's April life comes forth as glad as April skies.
Oh! what can be the magic lure that beckons them abroad
To sport upon the grassy plain, or tread the dusty road?
Tis the bright and merry sunshine that has call'd them out to play,
And scatter'd them, like busy bees, all humming in our way.
We're jostled by the tiny child, and sturdy, romping boy;
In city street and hamlet path, we see blithe forms arise;
And childhood's April life comes forth as glad as April skies.
Oh! what can be the magic lure that beckons them abroad
To sport upon the grassy plain, or tread the dusty road?
Tis the bright and merry sunshine that has call'd them out to play,
And scatter'd them, like busy bees, all humming in our way.
The bloom is on the cherry-tree—the leaf is on the elm;
The bird and butterfly have come to claim their fairy realm;
Unnumber'd stars are on the earth—the fairest who can choose,
When all are painted with the tints that form the rainbow's hues?
What spirit-wand hath waken'd them? the branch of late was bare,
The world was desolate—but now there's beauty everywhere.
'Tis the sweet and merry sunshine has unfolded leaf and flower,
And tells us of the Infinite, of Glory, and of Power.
The bird and butterfly have come to claim their fairy realm;
Unnumber'd stars are on the earth—the fairest who can choose,
When all are painted with the tints that form the rainbow's hues?
What spirit-wand hath waken'd them? the branch of late was bare,
The world was desolate—but now there's beauty everywhere.
'Tis the sweet and merry sunshine has unfolded leaf and flower,
And tells us of the Infinite, of Glory, and of Power.
We see Old Age and Poverty forsake the fire-side chair,
And leave a narrow, cheerless home, to taste the vernal air;
The winter hours were long to him who had no spice-warm'd cup,
No bed of down to nestle in, no furs to wrap him up.
But now he loiters 'mid the crowd, and leans upon his staff,
He gossips with his lowly friends, and joins the children's laugh.
'Tis the bright and merry sunshine that has led the old man out,
To hear once more the Babel roar, and wander round about.
And leave a narrow, cheerless home, to taste the vernal air;
The winter hours were long to him who had no spice-warm'd cup,
No bed of down to nestle in, no furs to wrap him up.
But now he loiters 'mid the crowd, and leans upon his staff,
He gossips with his lowly friends, and joins the children's laugh.
'Tis the bright and merry sunshine that has led the old man out,
To hear once more the Babel roar, and wander round about.
The bright and merry sunshine-see, it even creepeth in
Where prison bars shut out all else from solitude and sin;
Where prison bars shut out all else from solitude and sin;
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