Page:The Poetical Works of William Motherwell, 1849.djvu/224



calmness of this noontide hour, The shadow of this wood, The fragrance of each wilding flower, Are marvellously good; Oh, here crazed spirits breathe the balm Of nature's solitude!

It is a most delicious calm That reste th everywhere— The holiness of soul-sung psalm, Of felt but voiceless prayer! With hearts too full to speak their bliss, God's creatures silent are.

They silent are; but not the less, In this most tranquil hour, Of deep unbroken dreaminess, They own that Love and Power Which, like the softest sunshine, rests On every leaf and flower.