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1807–1892

BENEDICITE.

John Greenleaf Whittier

God's love and peace be with thee, where Soe'er this soft autumnal air Lifts the dark tresses of thy hair. Whether through city casements comes

Its kiss to thee, in crowded rooms, Or, out among the woodland blooms, It freshens o'er thy thoughtful face, Imparting, in its glad embrace,

Beauty to beauty, grace to grace! Fair Nature's book together read, The old wood-paths that knew our tread, The maple shadows overhead,—

The hills we climbed, the river seen By gleams along its deep ravine,— All keep thy memory fresh and green. Where'er I look, where'er I stray,

Thy thought goes with me on my way, And hence the prayer I breathe to-day; O'er lapse of time and change of scene, The weary waste which lies between

Thyself and me, my heart I lean. Thou lack'st not Friendship's spell-word, nor The half-unconscious power to draw All hearts to thine by Love's sweet law.

With these good gifts of God is cast Thy lot, and many a charm thou hast To hold the blessed angels fast. If, then, a fervent wish for thee

The gracious heavens will heed from me, What should, dear heart, its burden be? The sighing of a shaken reed,— What can I more than meekly plead

The greatness of our common need? God's love,— unchanging, pure, and true,— The Paraclete white-shining through His peace,— the fall of Hermon's dew!

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BENEDICITE. · John Greenleaf Whittier · Poetry Cove