64
POEMS.
Where purple-clustered muscatels
In dewy lanes are fragrant,
The bumble-bee in ambush dwells,
A loitering, idle vagrant!
In dewy lanes are fragrant,
The bumble-bee in ambush dwells,
A loitering, idle vagrant!
A dreamy, atmospheric haze
O'er hill and vale is lying,
As, passing fair, the year displays
Her "matchless charms"—in dying.
O'er hill and vale is lying,
As, passing fair, the year displays
Her "matchless charms"—in dying.
Thus beautiful, when touched by rime
Of age, by God's disposing,
Should life, like Indian Summer time,
Be brightest in its closing.
Of age, by God's disposing,
Should life, like Indian Summer time,
Be brightest in its closing.
A Song.
I've been so happy all day long!
As though some new, delightful song
Were in my heart, and thrilled it where
Before were sorrow, pain, and care.
As though some new, delightful song
Were in my heart, and thrilled it where
Before were sorrow, pain, and care.
The world is brighter—every thought
With love and thankfulness is fraught;
'Mid daily toil or evening rest,
At every hour, my soul is blest.
With love and thankfulness is fraught;
'Mid daily toil or evening rest,
At every hour, my soul is blest.
