HEATHER BURNING. 



Sweet incense of departed bloom 

 Afloat upon the moorland lea 



The memory of a summer gone 

 Thou bearest unto me. 



Again I see the hills and know 



The pleasant rush of waters near ; 



And far within the blue of heaven 

 Thy skylark singeth clear. 



And plover lone and wild curlew 

 Weird choristers, to Nature call, 



And sentinels of Silence seem 

 If human footstep fall. 



But deeper than such music all, 



And chiding earthly doubts and fears, 



The peace of God descends, and lo ! 

 The harpings of the spheres ! 



As Night, with trailing garment comes, 

 And enters at the western gate; 



And round her throne the planets wheel, 

 Her chariots of state. 



Oh, Summer, tho' from tower and tree 

 Thy touch has faded in the past, 



The radiance of thy sunbeams still 

 Within my life is cast. 



