he mirrored silence of this pool
Reveals a world of noiseless rule.
It soothes and rests my fevered spirit—
A bath of balm of the deeps, and cool.
Still move the clouds, still wheel the skies,
The aspiring tree no longer sighs,—
Fair thoughts of God, full-clothed in Heaven,
All calm and beautiful in Love's eyes!
Glassed in the light of Heaven's repose,
He wears perfection, like a rose!
Impatient heart, be still! Thou seëst
He brings His work to a perfect close.
ver the brow of lofty scar
Quivers the light of evening star,
And throws within the gorge's gloaming
A kiss of beams on the brook afar.
Quivers the stream with strange delight
Through all the murmuring hours of night,
And to the pale moss tells its story,
And lichens fumbling far up the height.
And in its dusk, for aye the brook
To cliffy covert, caverned nook,
Brattles its sweet and starry secret—