Page:Scenes and Hymns of Life.pdf/153

Woos us in every wind; fresh wild-leaf scents
From thickets where the lonely stock-dove broods.
Enter our lattice; fitful songs of joy
Float in with each soft current of the air;
And we will hear their summons; we will give
One day to flowers, and sunshine, and glad thoughts,
And thou shalt revel midst free nature's wealth,
And, for thy mother, twine wild wreaths; while she
From thy delight, wins to her own fond heart
The vernal extasy of childhood back:—
Come to the woods, my boy!

What! wouldst thou lead already to the path
Along the copsewood brook? Come, then! in truth
Meet playmate for a child, a blessed child,
Is a glad singing stream, heard or unheard,
Singing its melody of happiness
Amidst the reeds, and bounding in free grace
To that sweet chime.—With what a sparkling life
It fills the shadowy dingle! now the wing