Page:Scenes and Hymns of Life.pdf/155

Rh

Dear child! that airy gladness which thou feel'st Wafting thee after bird and butterfly, As 'twere a breeze within thee, is not less His gift, his blessing on thy spring-time hours, Than this rich outward sunshine, mantling all The leaves, and grass, and mossy tinted stones With summer glory. Stay thy bounding step, My merry wanderer! let us rest a while By this clear pool, where, in the shadow flung From alder boughs and osiers o'er its breast, The soft red of the flowering willow-herb So vividly is pictured. Seems it not E'en melting to a more transparent glow In that pure glass? Oh! beautiful are streams! And, through all ages, human hearts have loved Their music, still accordant with each mood Of sadness or of joy. And love hath grown Into vain worship, which hath left its trace On sculptured urn and altar, gleaming still Beneath dim olive boughs, by many a fount