The colouring of happiness.
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That leave no print on memory's sands, tread not
Less surely their bright path than choral hymns
And litanies. I know the praise of worlds,
And the soul's unvoiced homage, both arise
Distinctly to His ear who holds all nature
Pavilioned by His presence; who has fashioned
With an impartial care, alike the star
That keeps unpiloted its airy circle,
And the sun-quickened germ, or the poor moss
The building swallow plucks to line her nest.
Less surely their bright path than choral hymns
And litanies. I know the praise of worlds,
And the soul's unvoiced homage, both arise
Distinctly to His ear who holds all nature
Pavilioned by His presence; who has fashioned
With an impartial care, alike the star
That keeps unpiloted its airy circle,
And the sun-quickened germ, or the poor moss
The building swallow plucks to line her nest.
