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Then wherefore, wherefore were they made,
All dyed with rainbow-light,
Upspringing day and night :
And on the mountains high,
Where no man passes by ?
Then wherefore had they birth ?-
To beautify the earth ;
Whene'er his faith is dim,
Will care much more for him !
THE STORY OF A SUMMER DAY.
O PERFECT Light, which shaid away
The darkness from the light, And set a ruler o'er the day,
Another o'er the night ;
Thy glory, when the day forth flies,
More vively does appear, Than at midday unto our eyes
The shining sun is ctear.
The shadow of the earth anon
Removes and drawis by, While in the east, when it is gone,
Appears a clearer sky.
Which soon perceive the little larks,
The lapwing and the snipe, And time their songs, like Nature's clerks,
O'er meadow, muir, and stripe.
Our hemisphere is polished clean,
And lightened more and more ; While everything is clearly seen,
Which seemed dim before ;
Except the glistering astres bright,
Which all the night were clear, Offuskéd with a greater light
No longer do appear.
The sunlight fills the trembling air,
And balmy days their guerdons bring ; The Earth again is young and fair,
And amorous with musky Spring. The golden nurslings of the May
In splendor strew the spangled green, And hues of tender beauty play,
Entangled where the willows lean. Mark how the rippled currents flow;
What lustres on the meadows lie! And hark! the songsters come and go,
And trill between the earth and sky. Who told us that the years had fled,
Or borne afar our blissful youth? Such joys are all about us spread,
We know the whisper was not truth. The birds that break from grass and grove
Sing every carol that they sung When first our veins were rich with love,
And May her mantle round us flung. O fresh-lit dawn ! immortal life!
O Earth's betrothal, sweet and true, With whose delights our souls are rife,
And aye their vernal vows renew! Then, darling, walk with me this morn;
Let your brown tresses drink its sheen ; These violets, within them worn,
Of floral fays shall make you queen. What though there comes a time of pain
When autumn winds forbode decay ? The days of love are born again ;
That fabled time is far away!
The golden globe incontinent
Sets up his shining head, And o'er the earth and firmament
Displays his beams abread.
For joy the birds with boulden throats
Against his visage sheen Take
up their kindly music notes In woods and gardens green.
The dew upon the tender crops,
Like pearles white and round, Or like to melted silver drops,
Refreshes all the ground.
The misty reek, the clouds of rain
From tops of mountains skails, Clear are the highest hills and plain,
The vapors take the vales.