ARBOR DA Y MAX UAL. 



VOICES OF THE NIGHT. 



T)LEASAXT it was, when woods were green, 

 1 And winds were soft and low, 

 To lie amid some sylvan scene, 

 Where, the long drooping boughs between, 

 Shadows dark and sunlight sheen 

 Alternate come and go. 



Or where the denser grove receives 



No sunlight from above, 

 But the dark foliage interweaves 

 In one unbroken roof of leaves, 

 Underneath whose sloping eaves 



The shadows hardly move. 



Beneath some patriarchal tree 



I lay upon the ground : 

 His hoary arms uplifted be, 

 And all the broad leaves over me 

 Clapped their little hands in glee, 



With one continuous sound. 



***** 

 The green trees whispered low and mild 



It was a sound of joy ! 

 They were my playmates when a child, 

 And rocked me in their arms so wild ! 

 Still they looked at me and smiled, 



As if I were a boy ; 



And ever whispered, mild and low, 

 " Come, be a child once more ! " 

 And waved their long arms to and fro, 

 And beckoned solemnly and slow; 

 O, I could not choose but go 

 Into the woodland's hoar, 



Into the blithe and breathing air 



Into the solemn wood. 

 Solemn and silent even-where ! 

 Nature with folded hands seemed there, 

 Kneeling at her evening prayer ! 

 Like one in prayer I stood. 



Before me rose an avenue 



Of tail and sombrous pines ; 

 Abroad their fan-like branches grew, 

 And, where the sunshine darted through, 

 Spread a vapor soft and blue, 



In long and sloping lines. 



