ISLES OF SHOALS.
115
Science, unfolding her truths to the miner
Who seeks for her gems and brings them to light,
Has taught us thy breezes are purer and finer—
Thy soft, soothing balms the stricken invite.
Who seeks for her gems and brings them to light,
Has taught us thy breezes are purer and finer—
Thy soft, soothing balms the stricken invite.
Barren and rough, yet still how suggestive;
Thy chasms how wild, how awfully grand;
And those rolling billows, so dark and so restive,
Upheld by the might of an infinite hand!
Where are thy naiads? Their vestures are clinging
Around the huge ramparts that girdle each isle;
Where are their dwellings? 'Their voices are ringing;
Come they at even? We'll linger awhile.
Thy chasms how wild, how awfully grand;
And those rolling billows, so dark and so restive,
Upheld by the might of an infinite hand!
Where are thy naiads? Their vestures are clinging
Around the huge ramparts that girdle each isle;
Where are their dwellings? 'Their voices are ringing;
Come they at even? We'll linger awhile.
Hasten, ye visions of hope so entrancing!
And vanish, ye dreams—O wherefore inthrall,
While promise of health my pleasure enhancing,
On the sorrowing past the curtain may fall.
From the dawning of day till the closing of even
We'll sing of thy praises, though simple the song;
With gratitude, love, and the strength that is given,
Untold recollections around thee will throng.
And vanish, ye dreams—O wherefore inthrall,
While promise of health my pleasure enhancing,
On the sorrowing past the curtain may fall.
From the dawning of day till the closing of even
We'll sing of thy praises, though simple the song;
With gratitude, love, and the strength that is given,
Untold recollections around thee will throng.
