The day becomes more solemn and serene When noon is past; there is a harmony In autumn, and a lustre in its sky, Which through the summer is not heard or seen, As if it could not be, as if it had not been! Thus let thy power, which like the truth Of nature on my passive youth Descended, to my onward life supply Its calm, to one who worships thee, And every form containing thee, Whom, SPIRIT fair, thy spells did bind To fear himself, and love all human kind.

Thy light alone like mist o'er mountains driven, Or music by the night-wind sent Through strings of some still instrument, Or moonlight on a midnight stream, G…

Some say that gleams of a remoter world Visit the soul in sleep, - that death is slumber, And that its shapes the busy thoughts outnumber Of those who wake and…

Spirit of BEAUTY, that dost consecrate With thine own hues all thou dost shine upon Of human thought or form, where art thou gone? Why dost thou pass away and …

Fall on me like a silent dew, Or like those maiden showers Which, by the peep of day, do strew A baptism o'er the flowers.

Lays the rough paths of peevish Nature even, And opens in each heart a little heaven.

I remember, I remember The fir-trees dark and high; I used to think their slender tops Were close against the sky: It was a childish ignorance, But now 'tis li…