NOON.
At noon’s sweet hour came peace once more,
Wide open Nature laid her store
Of fragrant flowers—the birds sang gay,
To blot the sins of dawn away.
The sea herself, though foaming still,
Acknowledged then a stronger will,
Altho’ at night the mourner’s tear
Fell thick and fast. Yet ever here
Tears dew the sorrow-stricken eyes,
While grief sits by to foster sighs.
Men only learn in Heaven above
The wisdom of our Father’s love.
THE FISH-GIRL’S SONG.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
I set my basket down;
The bells hang high in the belfry tower,
And tell the folk ’tis the evening hour,
Through in and out the town.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
O hush my wooden shoon!
When gently I swing the sacred door,
And kneel me down on the marble floor
To beg a heavenly boon.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Be silent, wooden shoon;
And cease your noise while I say my prayers,
When vespers soar through the winding stairs,
Up to the lonely moon.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Good things all end too soon;
I bow the knee as I say good-bye,
To holy place, with its spire on high:
Such restless wooden shoon!
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Work, morning, night and noon;
For daily bread, and for nightly rest!
My heart is cheered and my soul is blest,
Ring out, O wooden shoon!
PHANTOMS OF THE SEA.
Black phantoms gather o’er the sea,
And move in groups mysteriously;
With shears in hand they watching wait.
The night grows old; the hour is late;
The ocean foams with angry glee,
Its waters roll tempestuously,
And dash the white salt-spangled spray
Against the rocks, in rudest play.