In ripened fruits and golden grain;
Winter with storms around his shrine,
Each, in their turn, were themes of thine.
And lowly life, the peasant’s lot,
Its humble hopes and simple joys;
By mountain-stream the shepherd’s cot,
And what the rustic hour employs;
White flocks on Nature’s carpet spread;
Birds blithely carolling o’erhead;
These were thy themes, and thou wert blessed—