White clouds, whose shadows haunt the deep, Light mists, whose soft embraces keep The sunshine on the hills asleep! O isles of calm! O dark, still wood!
And stiller skies that overbrood Your rest with deeper quietude! O shapes and hues, dim beckoning, through Yon mountain gaps, my longing view
Beyond the purple and the blue, To stiller sea and greener land, And softer lights and airs more bland, And skies,— the hollow of God's hand!
Transfused through you, O mountain friends! With mine your solemn spirit blends, And life no more hath separate ends. I read each misty mountain sign,
I know the voice of wave and pine, And I am yours, and ye are mine. Life's burdens fall, its discords cease, I lapse into the glad release
Of Nature's own exceeding peace. O welcome calm of heart and mind! As falls yon fir-tree's loosened rind To leave a tenderer growth behind,
So fall the weary years away; A child again, my head I lay Upon the lap of this sweet day. This western wind hath Lethean powers,
Yon noonday cloud nepenthe showers, The lake is white with lotus-flowers! Even Duty's voice is faint and low, And slumberous Conscience, waking slow,
Forgets her blotted scroll to show. The Shadow which pursues us all, Whose ever-nearing steps appall, Whose voice we hear behind us call,—
That Shadow blends with mountain gray, It speaks but what the light waves say,— Death walks apart from Fear to-day! Rocked on her breast, these pines and I
Alike on Nature's love rely; And equal seems to live or die. Assured that He whose presence fills With light the spaces of these hills
No evil to His creatures wills, The simple faith remains, that He Will do, whatever that may be, The best alike for man and tree.
What mosses over one shall grow, What light and life the other know, Unanxious, leaving Him to show.
Cookies on Poetry Cove