Page:Dramas 1.pdf/435

Rh

Ye little painted things, whose varied hues Charm, ev'n to wonderment; that mighty hand Which dyes the mountain's peak with rosy tints Sent from the rising sun, and to the barbed Destructive lightning gives its ruddy gleam, Grand and terrific, thus adorns even you! There is a father's full unstinted love Display'd o'er all, and thus on all I gaze With the keen thrill of new-waked ecstasy. What voice is that so near me and so sweet?