THOUGHTS UNDER A TREE. I NEVER Sit me down beneath A wood tree's pleasant shade, But a wounded heart pleads tearfully Oh! a story is written on river and rock, And on the eloquent sky, Man cannot fly; For it comes to his heart with a tone of love, And pleads for admittance there, And we listen with stinging ears On the sky a child is limned, A child with sunny hair, And a brow smooth and unwrinkled By care! And that child tells a tale with its rosy mouth, Of innocence and bliss, And days that flew like the breezes, The flowers that kiss. Ah me! for the days that are gone! That write their sad experien ce On a care-worn brow. Down, rising heart; thou must meet With the world like a strong-strong man; So flush my cheek that now Is wan. And I'll go and brave it manfully, And another day 'neath the green-wood tree Thou shalt have rest. ANGEL VISITS. BRIGHT ye seem as youth's best day dreams, There, all beautiful in sunlight, Friends, with yearning youthful love, bright, Who have gone their God to see. Smile on! good friends! I'm with you smiling, Hand in hand with friends beguiling Journeying now as once together With each phantom, hand in hand, Still we have sun-shiny weather, Journeying in the warm Dream-Land. For these travels oft my spirit Had been longing, yet in vain! Sad my fears, I might inherit In this world, the curse of Cain. For though thousands fluttered blindly Yet not one spoke to me kindly, Then I fled from life's thronged river, There I laid me down in sorrow; There with morn's I mixed my tears; Joy from memory nought could borrow, Hope fled from the coming years. Then, like morn-light coyly peeping Came the scene, which had been sleeping ANGEL VISITS. 47 There memory's show was stretched before me, Angels with me did abide, Angel-harpings quivered o'er me, Flowers sprang fragrant at my side. Then in long white-robed procession Again, I'm singing, loved ones, with ye, As ye melt in upper air. Come again with your blest presence, Let me often know the pleasance, Which your shadowy coming lends. |