Therefore, at Pentecost, which brings The Spring, clothed like a bride, When nestling buds unfold their wings, And bishop's-caps have golden rings, Musing upon many things, I sought the woodlands wide. The green trees whispered low and mild; It was a sound of joy! They were my playmates when a child, Still they looked at me and smiled, And ever whispered, mild and low, O, I could not choose but go Into the woodlands hoar, Into the blithe and breathing air, Into the solemn wood, Solemn and silent everywhere! Nature with folded hands seemed there, Kneeling at her evening prayer! Like one in prayer I stood. Before me rose an avenue Of tall and sombrous pines; Abroad their fan-like branches grew, In long and sloping lines. And, falling on my weary brain, The dreams of youth came back again, Visions of childhood! Stay, O stay! Thou art no more a child! "The land of Song within thee lies, Its clouds are angels' wings. "Learn, that henceforth thy song shall be, Not mountains capped with snow, Nor forests sounding like the sea, Nor rivers flowing ceaselessly, Where the woodlands bend to see The bending heavens below. "There is a forest where the din Sees the heavens all black with sin, "Athwart the swinging branches cast,. Soft rays of sunshine pour ; Then comes the fearful wintry blast ; Our hopes, like withered leaves, fall fast; "Look, then, into thine heart, and write! Yes, into Life's deep stream! All forms of sorrow and delight, All solemn Voices of the Night, That can soothe thee, or affright, Be these henceforth thy theme." VOICES OF THE NIGHT HYMN TO THE NIGHT I Ασπασίη, τρίλλιστος. HEARD the trailing garments of the Night I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light I felt her presence, by its spell of might, The calm, majestic presence of the Night, I heard the sounds of sorrow and delight, That fill the haunted chambers of the Night, From the cool cisterns of the midnight air The fountain of perpetual peace flows there, - |