When over bog and fen, A ground fire thin and pale, III. When the spirits of the North When seas of lightning flare, And, like feather on the foam, Pale listeners on the shore Hear the curse and shriek of men, As they sink and rise again On the gurly billow's back, And their strong broad breast-bones crack On the iron-ribbed coast, As back to hell they 're tossed, O then, O then, O then, We hurry forth again! For amid such lusty cries, Begin our revelries. IV. When aged parents flee Through foam and thundering din, All mottled black and blue,- When gentle maidens stand To wring their white hands over, O then, O then, O then, We hurry home amain; For their heart-piercing cries, Shame our wild revelries! A SABBATH SUMMER NOON. THE calmness of this noontide hour, The fragrance of each wilding flower, O, here crazed spirits breathe the balm Of nature's solitude! It is a most delicious calm With hearts too full to speak their bliss, They silent are; but not the less, In this most tranquil hour They own that Love and Power Which, like the softest sunshine, rests On every leaf and flower. How silent are the song-filled nests How mute is every feathered breast And yet bright bead-like eyes declare This hour is ecstasy. Heart forth! as uncaged bird through air, And mingle in the tide. Of blessed things, that, lacking care, Around thee, in their angel hues Of joy and sinless pride. Here, on this green bank that o'er-views The far retreating glen, Beneath the spreading beech-tree muse, On all within thy ken; For lovelier scene shall never break Slow stealing from the tangled brake That skirts the distant hill, With noiseless hoof two bright fawns make |