208 EVENTIDE, 



And rU weave a strain for a bridal lay. 



Of the beauties of the earth. 

 For the birds to chaunt as they fly away, 



A song of love and mirth. 

 The flowery world is peeping still, 



'Tis a lovely sight to see. 

 How they bow their heads at their Maker's will. 



And close from their reveiy ; 

 They all are fraught with heaven-born charms. 



The violet, and the bright blue-bell. 

 And sweet they lay in nature's arms. 



Like gems to stud her comal ; 

 There too the daisy, with its simple lore. 



Rearing its head in a lonely spot 

 On the streamlet's side; I love it more 



For its home, and humble lot ; 

 For it takes me back to bye-past years. 

 And tells of hope and childish fears. 

 And how I roamed 'neath sunny skies. 

 To gain it only for a prize ; 

 I look and gaze on the beauteous scene. 



The tall and stately trees. 

 The blooming meadows clothed in green. 



And the swarm of humming bees. 

 And I list once more to the streamlet's flow. 



And watch the last beam fall. 

 And grey twilight in his mantle glow. 



And the birds' last thrilling call. 

 The moon now peeps o'er yon broad oak tree. 

 And her rays like a charm go merrily, 

 And the evening star with its twinkling light. 

 Is an orient pearl for approaching night. 

 *Tis a bright, bright spot, and a gay glad scene. 

 For the care worn man, and the earthly being. 

 And me thinks 'tis full of such joy and mirth. 

 As would make a heaven from this beauteous earth. 



