Brightly the sun of summer shone, Green fields and waving woods upon, And soft winds wandered by; Above, a sky of purest blue, Around, bright flowers of loveliest hue, Allured the gazer's eye. ...
Music I love, but never strain Could kindle raptures so divine, So grief assuage, so conquer pain, And rouse this pensive heart of mine, As that we hear on Christmas morn, Upon the wintry breezes borne....
My God! O let me call Thee mine! Weak wretched sinner though I be, My trembling soul would fain be Thine, My feeble faith still clings to Thee, My feeble faith still clings to Thee. ...
My soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring, And carried aloft on the wings of the breeze; For, above, and around me, the wild wind is roaring Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas. ...
Spirit of Earth! thy hand is chill: I've felt its icy clasp; And, shuddering, I remember still That stony-hearted grasp. Thine eye bids love and joy depart: Oh, turn its gaze from me!...
Weep not too much, my darling; Sigh not too oft for me; Say not the face of Nature Has lost its charm for thee. I have enough of anguish In my own breast alone;...