Page:Poems of Nature and Life.djvu/312

 302 CONSOLATIONS OF SOLITUDE

Now living things seem dead, And dead ones to a dreamy life are born, And shapeless visions sweep the air o'erhead,

Or walk the earth forlorn ;

Till from her cloudy cave Comes out in silvery robes night's beauteous queen, While each pale star peeps from his airy grave

Forth on the night serene.

But, hark ! that bird I hear, Which ever mourns at either end of day. Chiding the stars, or whether they appear,

Or whether fade away.

Sweet day ! Morn, noon, and night. Thou art all beautiful ! Through all thy range, Thus let me ever deem thee, with delight

Viewing thine every change !

And, should that day arrive When nature can no longer make me gay. May men regard me as no more alive,

And say, " He died that day."

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