Page:Scenes and Hymns of Life.pdf/60

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And let me hear once more the woodland verse I taught thee late—'twas made for such a scene. [Child speaks.

Broods there some spirit here? The summer leaves hang silent as a cloud; And o'er the pools, all still and darkly clear, The wild wood-hyacinth with awe seems bow'd; And something of a tender cloistral gloom Deepens the violet's bloom.

The very light that streams Through the dim dewy veil of foliage round, Comes tremulous with emerald-tinted gleams, As if it knew the place were holy ground; And would not startle, with too bright a burst, Flowers, all divinely nurs'd.