Page:Pocahontas and Other Poems (NY).pdf/95

94 I kiss your trunks, ye ancient trees, That often o'er my head The blossoms of your flowery spring In fragrant showers have shed.

Thou, too, of changeful mood, I thank thee, sounding stream, That blent thine echo with my thought, Or woke my musing dream. I kneel upon the verdant turf, For sure my thanks are due To moss-cup and to clover-leaf, That gave me draughts of dew.

To each perennial flower, Old tenants of the spot, The broad-leaf'd lily of the vale, And the meek forget-me-not, To every daisy's dappled brow, To every violet blue, Thanks! thanks! may each returning year Your changeless bloom renew.

Praise to our Father-God, High praise, in solemn lay, Alike for what his hand hath given, And what it takes away: And to some other loving heart May all this beauty be The dear retreat, the Eden-home That it hath been to me.