evening.
67
"Under the apple boughs as I sit
In May-time, when the robin's song
Thrills the odorous winds along,
The innermost heaven seems to ope—
I think, though the old joys pass from sight,
Still something is left for heart's delight—
For life is endless and so is hope.
In May-time, when the robin's song
Thrills the odorous winds along,
The innermost heaven seems to ope—
I think, though the old joys pass from sight,
Still something is left for heart's delight—
For life is endless and so is hope.
"If the aloe wait an hundred years;
And God's times are so long, indeed,
For simple things, as flower and weed,
That gather only the light and gloom,—
For what great treasures of joy and dole,
Of life, and death perchance, must the soul
Ere it flower in heavenly peace find room!
And God's times are so long, indeed,
For simple things, as flower and weed,
That gather only the light and gloom,—
For what great treasures of joy and dole,
Of life, and death perchance, must the soul
Ere it flower in heavenly peace find room!
"I see that all things wait in trust,
As feeling afar God's distant ends—
And unto every creature, he sends
As feeling afar God's distant ends—
And unto every creature, he sends
