Thou hast been rear’d too tenderly,
Beloved too well and long,
Watch’d by too many a gentle eye:
Now look on life—be strong!
Too quiet seem’d thy joys for change,
Too holy and too deep;
Bright clouds, through summer skies that range
Seem ofttimes thus to sleep,—
To sleep in silvery stillness bound,
As things that ne’er may melt;