Page:Ambarvalia - Clough (1849).djvu/124

 High delegate of Heaven's own rest! If man's impure and anxious breast Thy loveliness despise, How thankful is the innocent earth! How gladly pour their welcome forth The unpolluted skies!

Earth's sweetest scent, Air's fairest light Are thine by immemorial right; Thine is the grateful boon Of waters locked in calmest shine; These jetty trees are only thine, And thine this crescent moon!

What wouldst thou more? Benignant Power, Art thou disquiet in thy bower So brightly decked, so fair? Alas! the voices which the best Should thank thee for thy peace and rest, How seldom they are there!

Not for thyself, for us thy brow So oft with an uneasy glow Is flushed, thy peaceful eyes Are vexed with tresses all undecked And gloom, reproach of the neglect It almost justifies.