The Book of Nature. It lifts its head, spreads forth its bloom, 187 ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. THE BOOK OF NATURE. HERE is a book, who runs may read, Which heavenly truth imparts, U And all the lore its scholars need, Pure eyes and Christian hearts. The works of God above, below, Within us and around, Are pages in that book to show The glorious sky, embracing all, Wherewith encompassed, great and small In peace and order move. The dew of heaven is like His grace, It steals in silence down; But where it lights, the favoured place By richest fruits is known. Thou, who hast given me eyes to see Give me a heart to find out Thee, And read Thee everywhere. KEBLE. CHOICE OF SEASONS. HO loves not spring's voluptuous hours, Yet who would choose, however dear, Who loves not winter's awful form? The sphere-born music of the storm ? Yet who would choose, how grand soever, MONTGOMERY. SPRING. ENTLE Spring!-in sunshine clad, For winter maketh the light heart sad, He sees thee, and calls to his gloomy train, The sleet, and the snow, and the wind and the rain; And they shrink away, and they flee in fear, When thy merry step draws near. Winter giveth the fields and the trees, so old, A Spring Landscape. And the rain, it raineth so fast and cold, And, snugly housed from the wind and weather, Winter maketh the sun in the gloomy sky When thy merry step draws near. 189 LONGFELLOW. A SPRING LANDSCAPE. HE green trees whispered low and mild: They were my playmates when a child, And rocked me in their arms so wild! Still they looked at me and smiled, As if I were a boy; And ever whispered, mild and low, Oh, I could not choose but go Into the woodlands hoar. Into the blithe and breathing air, Into the solemn wood, Solemn and silent everywhere! Nature with folded hands seemed there, Like one in prayer I stood.. Before me rose an avenue Of tall and sombrous pines; Abroad their fan-like branches grew, In long and sloping lines. And, falling on my weary brain, Like a fast-falling shower, The dreams of youth came back again; Dropping on the ripened grain, As once upon the flower. LONGFELLOW. THE SPRING JOURNEY. H! green was the corn as I rode on my way, And dark was the sycamore's shade to behold, The thrush from his holly, the lark from his cloud, Summer. The mild southern breeze brought a shower from the hill, And yet though it left me all dropping and chill, I felt a new pleasure as onward I sped, To gaze where the rainbow gleamed broad over head. Oh, such be life's journey, and such be our skill, 191 Through sunshine and shower may our progress be even, And our tears add a charm to the prospect of Heaven! BISHOP HEBER. SUMMER. 3'M coming along with a bounding pace, I've left them all with a brighter face, I have hung festoons from laburnum trees, I've roused the laugh of the playful child, For this is my life, my glorious reign, And I'll queen it well in my leafy bower; All shall be bright in my rich domain; I'm queen of the leaf, the bud, and the flower. |