The Vale of Pines.
How soft is the sound of the river,1
Stealing down through the green piny vale,2
Where the sunbeams of eventide quiver3
Through the scarce stirring foliage, and ever4
The cooing dove plains out its tale ;5
While the blackbird melodiously sings6
An anthem, reminding of innocent things.7
Grey Evening comes onward, and scatters8
The fires in the western serene ;9
And the shadows of Lebanon’s daughters,10
Darkly imaged, outspread on the waters,11
Festoon’d with their outlines of green ;12
The clouds journey past, and below13
Are reflected their masses of crimson and snow.14
Oh sweet is the vision that loses15
Present cares in the glow of the past !16
As the light of Reflection reposes17
On youth, with its blossoming roses,18
And sunshine too lovely to last :19
Sweet dreams ! that have sparkled and gone,20
Like torrents of blue over ledges of stone !21
But why should break forth our repining22
O’er what we have loved and have lost ?23
Whether fortune be shaded or shining,24
Our destinies bright or declining,25
Our visions accomplish’d or crost—26
It is ours to be calm and resign’d,27
Faith’s star beaming clear on the night of the mind.28
When morning awoke on the ocean,29
Dim tempests were louring around :30
Yet see, with how steadfast a motion,31
As the clouds bend and glow with devotion,32
The sun his asylum hath found !33
Twilight weeps ; and all gorgeously red34
Are the smooth sloping vale, and the tall mountain-head.35
Lo ! thus, when the clouds of life’s sorrow36
Have pass’d and have perish’d, the sky37
An added effulgence shall borrow38
From the storms that have flown, and the morrow39
Gleam bright in eternity’s eye ;40
And the Angel of Righteousness send41
His balm to that heart which is true to the end !42