There’s much of rapture in those favored hours,
When o’er the mind a magic influence steals,
That tunes to poetry and song its powers,
And melts in music all a warm heart feels.
There is a blissfulness that lifts the soul
Far from the paltry cares and toils of time,
In venting feelings that defy control,
In lofty-measured strains or tuneful rhyme.
The summer’s shower that wets the deep-seared earth,
And decks her burning surface new in green,