The clear evening sky was mantled in blue,
And flow'rets that slept were covered with dew;
Laden with perfume, a soft summer breeze
Came floating along through whispering trees;
Enthroned above, the fair queen of night
Was tinging the sea with silvery light,
And bright gleaming stars that circled her brow,
Glanced down amazed on the beauties below.
'Neath ocean's calm breast, its billows and waves
Had sunk to repose in the coral caves:
Nature seemed praising in silence her Lord,
Who gave to her birth by power of His word.
Such was the fair evening, so lonely and still,
When by the side of a clear mountain rill,
'Neath an old oak's boughs that were waving there,
A maiden breathed for her lover a prayer;
For hither had been their chosen retreat,
At still even-tide, when fond lovers meet.
Now lonely each night she knelt by that stream,
Whose murmurings low seemed charmed with her theme.
As softly she spoke, in tones sweet and clear,
One might have fancied a seraph was near.
While her hands were clasped on her snow-white breast.
A small golden heart to her own was pressed,
Which she had received as a parting pledge,
'Neath the old oak tree at that streamlet's edge.
Solemn and pure was the prayer of love,
That rose from her heart to the throne above,
For his safe return, who was dearer far
Than the morning sun or evening star.
His duty was now in a distant land,
To hazard his life with a noble band,
In the toils of war he was called to share,
And a soldier's part for his country bear.
A tear-drop rolled from her soft blue eye,
As upward she gazed at the starlit sky,
Watching perchance some angel's flight
That bore on his wings her request each night;
For her's was the prayer of faith and of love,
That ever finds grace in that world above.
Though heaven may please awhile to delay
The favor that's sought from day to day,
Still it hearkens and hears, and will answer give.
To such as by faith its bounties receive.
And so did it prove with that maiden fair,
Whose pure faith banished all gloom and despair.
So, at the same hour, the next even-tide,
There knelt by her one that called her his bride,
Who had hastened from war to fulfill his vow,
While victory's wreath was fresh on his brow.
And, hand joined in hand, by that mountain stream
They sat to rehearse love's long-cherished dream
And hovering round came angels of light,
Soft whispering joy, then winging their flight.
The bliss of that hour was dear to each heart,
That love had entwined, now never to part.
My harp is on the willow hung;
To me the morning brings no light.
No ray of sun or moon I see,
But one unchanging night.
I cannot view those gem-like stars,
That sparkle in the ethereal skies;
Nor trace the clouds with golden fringe,
That o'er the sunset rise.
Nor gaze upon the blooming flowers,
That make the face of nature gay;
Nor watch the ocean's sparkling waves,
Where dancing sunbeams play.
To me the variegated earth,
Would seem one dark, unbroken plain, If, in my heart, I had not hid
Bright visions that oft come again,
For I through nine fair summers passed,
With scarce a cloud to shade my way,
And loved the face of nature more,
With each returning day.
But ere a tenth had fully come,
My gladsome heart was wrapt in gloom; Lo! I was banished from the light, Condemned to a living tomb,—
Where even Hope's fair star grows dim,
With clouds that o'er my spirit rise,
And hide the gleams of holy light,
Imparted from the skies.
But oh! I will with patience bear
A grief which none can feel or know,
But those for whom it is ordained,
By him who wills it so.
And faith, not light shall be my guide
To Canaan's fair, celestial shore,
Where faith is lost in perfect sight,
And darkness is no more.
Oh, sweet is the dawning hour,
When dews like holy incense rise,
And waft to God, on mystic wings,
Earth's morning sacrifice.
Ard fair Aurora tints
The azure sky with golden light,
And chases far the sable clouds,
That vail the world in night.
And angels bright, that nightly watch,
While earth reposing lies.
Spreading their pure celestial wings,
Mount swiftly to the skies.
Or rosy twilight fades
Before the gorgeous king of day, Who from the east rejoicing comes
And gentle zephyrs kiss
Dew-drops from the blushing flowers, That waking shed their odors sweet, Through fields and summer bowers.
And on the ocean's wave
Sunbeams like golden shadows gleam, And laughing breezes catch the spray That leaps from mountain stream.
And to the huntsman's horn,
The echoing rocks and hills reply, And beasts of prey that nightly prowl, Like falcons swift go by.
And insect voices greet,
With songs of praise the waking day And feathered songsters warble sweet, To God their morning lay.
And man from sweet repose,
Joyful again to see the light,
Goes forth to toil with cheerful heart,
Till day gives place to night.
O sweet and hallowed time,
Let thy peaceful influence rest On all the hours that shall succeed To this that thou hast blessed
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