Works

Thou hast marked the lonely river,
On whose waveless bosom lay
Some deep mountain-shadow ever,
Dark'ning e'en the ripples' play -
Didst thou deem it had no murmur
Of soft music, though unheard?...

How beautiful, how beautiful,
Beneath the morning sky,
In bridal veil of snowy mist,
These dreamy headlands lie!
How beautiful, in soft repose,
Upon the water's breast,...

Weary of dreaming what never comes true,
Weary of thinking what never is new,
Of endeav'ring, yet never succeeding to do.

Weary of walking the dusty, old ways,
Weary of saying what every one says,...

Yes, the weary earth shall brighten -
Brighten in the perfect day,
And the fields that now but whiten,
Golden glow beneath the ray!
Slowly swelling in her bosom,
Long the precious seed has lain, -...