| SUMMER RAIN |
The mountain streams are silent, Or whisper faint and low; The earth is grateful to the dews For moisture which the clouds refuse; Blow, west wind, blow! And fall, O gentle rain! Awake the music of the bowers, Unfold the beauty of the flowers; The cornfields long to hear thy voice, And woods and orchards will rejoice To see thee, gentle rain! It comes! The gushing wealth descends! Hark! how it patters on the leaves! Hark! how it drops from cottage eaves! The pastures and the clouds are friends. Drop gently, gentle rain! The fainting cornstalk lifts its head, The grass grows greener at thy tread, The woods are musical again; And from the hillside springing, Down comes the torrent singing, With grateful nature in accord, A full-voiced anthem to the Lord, To thank Him for the rain. |
| THE GLORIOUS HEAVENS |
The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim. Th' unwearied sun, from day to day, Does his Creator's power display, And publishes to every land The work of an almighty hand. Soon as the evening shades prevail The moon takes up the wondrous tale, And nightly to the listening earth Repeats the story of her birth; Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole. What though in solemn silence all Move round the dark terrestrial ball? What though nor real voice nor sound Amidst the radiant orbs be found? In reason's ear they all rejoice, And utter forth a glorious voice, Forever singing as they shine, "The hand that made us is divine." |
| --Addison. |
Adapted from the nineteenth Psalm
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JESUS AND JOHN
By Murillo (1618-1682)
