The wild rose swung her fragrant vase,
The daisy answered from her place,—
Praise Him whose looks are full of grace.
And violets murmured where the feet
Of brooks made hollows cool and deep;
He giveth His beloved sleep.
Wide stood the great cathedral doors,
Arched o'er with heaven's radiant floors;—
Nature, with lifted brow, adores.
And wave, and wind, and rocking trees,
And voice of birds, and hum of bees,
Made anthem, like the roll of seas.
The sunset vapors sail and swim;—
All day uprose their mighty hymn,—
I listened till the woods were dim.
And through the beechen aisles there fell
A silver silence, like a spell.
The heifer's home returning bell,
Faint and remote, as if it grew
A portion of that silence too,
Dissolved and ceased, like falling dew.
Stars twinkled through the coming night,—
A voice dropped down the purple height,—
At even time it shall be light.
Ah rest my soul, for God is good,
Though sometimes faintly understood,
His goodness fills the solitude.
Fold up thy spirit,—trust the right,
As blossoms fold their leaves at night,
And trust the sun though out of sight.