Our Profession and Other Poems Part 8
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ARBOR DAY TRIBUTE.
With lavish hand our G.o.d hath spread Beauty and fragrance o'er the land; His smile revives the seeming dead; Nature awakes at His command.
He breathes upon the leafless tree; He whispers to the tiny flower.
His touch awakes the slumbering bee, And each obeys th' Almighty power.
The perfumed breeze of smiling May, The dancing stream on mountain side, The wild bird's trill of joyous lay Proclaim Thy goodness far and wide.
Attune our hearts to sing Thy praise, Expand our souls to comprehend Thy attributes and all Thy ways, And ever be our Guide and Friend.
We plant to-day within the mould, The stock that needs Thy tender care; Send deep its roots, its buds unfold In answer to our faith and prayer.
THE ROSE.
When dewy morn of balmy June Awakes and blushes in the East, When song birds pipe their sweetest tune And Nature spreads her grandest feast, Among the rare and fragrant plants Whose petals most of heaven disclose, In foremost rank--far in advance-- There stands the sprightly, smiling rose.
Its home is on the wide, wide plains, In valleys where wild torrents foam, In solitudes where silence reigns, And by the cotter's humble home.
It cheers alike the rich and poor On Alpine heights, or by the sea, By castle wall or peasant's door-- It justly claims ubiquity.
Could blus.h.i.+ng beauty born of heaven, Or world-wide wors.h.i.+p win the prize, Could fragrance, fancy, fame, or even The rich rays of reflected skies Soothe sorrows sharp and scorching sting And give the world complete repose, Then men should shout and children sing-- "The flower of State must be the Rose!"
THE GOLDENROD.
When August sunset's yellow blaze Streams out o'er meadow, field and lawn, It seeks some shrine wherein its rays May linger till returning dawn, And touching gently with its sheen That graceful plumage of the sod, Its constellated gems of green Are changed to glorious _Goldenrod_.
Its home is in the sterile soil Deserted by the rustic swain Because it yields not for his toil The recompense he would obtain.
By wall and ledge, and rock, and mound, Where'er neglect and ruin reign In greatest beauty there 'tis found, To cheer and clothe the earth again.
Down in the soul there dwells a thought That finds expression not in word, That counts display and promise naught Unless a voice divine is heard, That speaks to cheer the desolate, That yields a balm distilled from G.o.d; Whose type should be the flower of State-- The sun-lit, heaven-born _Goldenrod_.
b.u.t.tERCUPS AND DAISIES.
b.u.t.tercups and daisies,-- Bright children of the lawn-- To the fields are nodding In the winds of June.
Such beauty of the meadows Gives a charm so sweet, so strong, The robin's spirit bursts aloud In animated song.
b.u.t.tercups and daisies Bloom adown the narrow lane, Beside the brook in pasture, And over the wide plain; Tangles in the meadow Where ten million flowers bloom, Draw bee and bird and squirrel, With their beauty and perfume.
b.u.t.tercups and daisies Aglow in morning light, And pendant dew-drops sparkling-- Bright diamonds of night-- Send a matin greeting To the rising G.o.d of day, As he warms them gently With his golden ray.
b.u.t.tercups and daisies Are jewels to be worn By all sons and daughters Of Nature, truly born; They speak a perfect language, They lead to the divine, They cheer the weak and weary They strengthen and refine.
b.u.t.tercups and daisies May softly o'er me bloom, When I am sweetly sleeping Within my restful tomb, And when by mortal beings I may forgotten be, The b.u.t.tercups and daisies Shall be dear friends to me.
Modest, meek anemone, Loved wind-flower of the spring, You fill our hearts with gladness, For with your smile you bring The vitalizing suns.h.i.+ne, The fruitful April shower, The pipe of feathered songster, And bud of sylvan bower.
THE FRINGED GENTIAN.
I remember well, in my boyhood's romp, The beautiful flower that grew near the swamp, With its spiral screw Of cerulean hue, While on the marge of its petals grew A fringe, such as art never weaves.
I plucked it with zeal, for my heart was aglow, Its color and form, my mother to show, And gladden her eyes With the exquisite prize I had found when autumnal zephyr sighs 'Mong the faded flowers and leaves.
Fair emblem of maiden adorned as a bride, The tintings of heaven within you abide; You smilingly stand In bridal robe grand, For a lover who offers an ardent hand, And a heart that never deceives.
When others have left us, we cherish the one Who remains firm and faithful till vict'ry's won; Though cold be the storm, The heart is e'er warm For the tried and true, who weave such a charm Round the heart of him who receives.
THE DANDELION.
Meadows are dotted, far and wide, With velvet stars that bring A golden off'ring of delight,-- Flower-goslings of the spring.
Then gray-haired pappus, downy, soft, Follows with pistils loose, And the gosling of the early spring Becomes a white-fledged goose.
Its feathers float on ev'ry breeze That fans the verdant mead, And children count the hours of day By breaths that waft the seed.
Soft, silent Time that comes apace O'er human flowers that bloom, You quickly change youth to old age, And lead life toward the tomb.
Bright turf-born gosling of the field, Teach us to smile, and give A perfume from a fragrant soul, That on and on shall live.
THE FLOWERS I LOVE.
Our Profession and Other Poems Part 8
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Our Profession and Other Poems Part 8 summary
You're reading Our Profession and Other Poems Part 8. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Jared Barhite already has 643 views.
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