« הקודםהמשך »
In softer harmony the people join,
In solitary paths, where wild flow'rs blow, There would I bless His name who led me forth
From death's dark vale, to walk amid those sweets, Who gives the bloom of health once more to glow Upon this cheek, and lights this languid eye.”
It is not only in the sacred fane That homage should be paid to the Most High ; There is a temple, one not made with hands, The vaulted firmament: Far in the woods, Almost beyond the sound of city-chime, At intervals heard thro' the breezeless air; When not the limberest leaf is seen to move, Save where the linnet lights upon
spray ; Where not a flow'ret bends its little stalk, Save when the bee alights upon the bloom ;There, rapt in gratitude, in joy, and love,
the Sabbath-noon; Silence his praise : his disembodied thoughts, Loos’d from the load of words, will high ascend Beyond the empyreal.-Nor yet less pleasing at the heav'nly throne, The Sabbath-service of the shepherd-boy! (5) In some lone glen, where ev'ry sound is lull’d To slumber, save the tinkling of the rill, Or bleat of lamb, or hov’ring falcon's cry, Stretch'd on the sward, he reads of Jesse's Son ; Or sheds a tear o'er him to Egypt sold, And wonders why he weeps: the volume clos’d, With thyme-sprig laid between the leaves, he sings The sacred lays, his weekly lesson, conn'd With meikle care beneath the lowly roof, Where humble lore is learnt, where humble worth Pines unrewarded by a thankless state.
The man of God will
Thus reading, hymning, all alone, unseen,
O blissful days!
Disdains the servile strain of Fashion's quire,
sought The upland moors, where rivers, there but brooks, Dispart to diff'rent seas : Fast by such brooks, A little glen is sometimes scoop'd, a plat With green sward gay, and flowers that strangers
Amid the heathery wild, that all around