BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.
———
’Tis noon. At noon the Hebrew bowed the knee
And worshiped, while the husbandman withdrew
From the scorched field, and the wayfaring man
Grew faint, and turned aside by bubbling fount,
Or rested in the shadow of the palm.
I, too, amid the overflow of day,
Behold the power which wields and cherishes
The frame of Nature. From this brow of rock