Come to the woods in June,
‘T is happiness to rove
When Nature’s lyres are all in tune,
And life all full of love.
Come, when the morning light,
Advancing from afar,
Veils, with a glory soft and bright,
Her smiling favourite star.
While from the dewy dells,
And every wild-wood bower,
A thousand little feather’d bells
Ring out the matin hour.
Come, when the sun is high,
And earth all full in bloom,
When every passing summer sigh
Is languid with perfume;
When by the mountain-brook
The watchful red-deer lies;
And spotted fawns, in mossy nook,
Have closed their wild, bright eyes; –
While from the giant tree,
And fairy of the sod,
A dreamy wind-harp melody
Speaks to the soul of God;
Whose beauteous gifts of love
The passing hours unfold,
Till ev’n the sombre hemlock boughs
Are tipped with fringe of gold.
Come, when the sun is set,
And see along the west
Heaven’s glory, streaming through the gate
By which he pass’d to rest.
While brooklets, as they flow
Beneath the cool sweet bowers,
Sing fairy legends, soft and low,
To groups of listening flowers;
And creeping formless shades
Make distance strange and dim,
And with the daylight softly fades
The wild bird’s evening hymn.
Come, when the woods are dark,
And winds go fluttering by,
While here and there a phantom bark
Floats in the deep blue sky;
While gleaming far away
Beyond th’ aerial flood,
Lies in its starry majesty
The city of our God.
(Lydia Jane Wheeler Peirson)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, God Poems, Light Poems, Soul Poems, Nature Poems, Flowers Poems, Success Poems, Gold Poems, Morning Poems, Lies & Deceit Poems, Cities PoemsBased on Keywords: wind-harp, brooklets, red-deer, mountain-brook