Page:The Forest Sanctuary.pdf/145

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And breathings from their sunny flowers, Which are not of the things that die, And singing voices from their bowers Shall greet thee in the purple sky; Soft voices, e'en like those that dwell Far in the green reed's hollow cell.

Or hast thou heard the sounds that rise From the deep chambers of the earth? The wild and wondrous melodies To which the ancient rocks gave birth* ? —Like that sweet song of hidden caves Shall swell those wood-notes o'er the waves.

The emerald waves!—they take their hue And image from that sunbright shore; But wouldst thou launch thy light canoe, And wouldst thou ply thy rapid oar, Before thee, hadst thou morning's speed, The dreamy land should still recede!