Page:Ambarvalia - Clough (1849).djvu/162



, what am I, if in this kindliness Of universal nature I can feel No love, nor, for at least the moment, steal My hard heart from the tumult and the press! The sun delights the winter's wounds to heal; The rain is busy to support and bless; And joyous Earth sings, like a spinning-wheel Turned by a mother in her happiness! O comfort, comfort me, thou wondrous height Of softly-changing sky above my head! And thou, warm growing ground beneath my feet! —In vain my supplications I repeat: In patience let the punishment be sped. Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?