Page:The Romance of Nature; or, The Flower-Seasons Illustrated.djvu/322

200 Do ye not joy to know the pure delight With which we gaze Upon your glorious forms?—Are ye not glad E'en in the praise Which our enraptured wonder ever tells While poring o'er the wealth that in ye dwells;—

That wealth of thought, of beauty, and of love. Which may be found In each small common herb that springs from out The teeming ground? Do ye not feel that ye do deeply bless Our harsher souls by your dear loveliness?

Oh! if 'tis given unto ye to know The thrilling power Of memories and thoughts that can be read E'en in a flower, How ye must all rejoice beneath each look Which reads your beauty like an open book!

We love its silent language: strong, though still, Is that unheard But all-pervading harmony:—it breathes No uttered word, But floats around us, as, in happy dream,

We feel the soft sigh of a waveless stream.