248 THE COUNTRY CLERGYMAN. 



THE SPIRIT OF THE GLEN. 



Beautiful spirit of wood and dell, 



That dwelPst unseen midst flood and fell, 



List to thy vot'rys prayer ! 

 Alone with thee, in thine own wild glen, 

 By the rivers brink, and the mossy fen. 



He's far from the world of care. 



Oh ! I would wander for ever more, 

 In desert bleak, midst the torrent's roar, 



If with thee I once might be ; 

 Thy voice would sooth, and thy breath would calm, 

 For they are sweet as the even'ng balm ; 



O then let me dwell with thee. 



I'll lay me down in that sheltcr'd nook, 

 There by the willow o'er hanged brook. 



And I'll dream that thou art nigh 

 The laden bee as she toils along, 

 And the blackbird's pleasant even'ng song 



Are borne on the zephyr's sigh. 



To call around me dear thoughts of home, 

 Exquisite spirit ! I bid thee come, 



And be thou my welcome guest. 

 And cause me to feel as I did of old, 

 In youth, when those spirits were high and bold 



Which now are all lull'd to rest. 



And I'll worship thee in this even'ng hour, 

 And bend before the glorious pow'r 



Of kind nature's peaceful sway. 

 My grateful vows to her shrine I'll bring, 

 And many a garland o'er it fling, 



From morn to the close of day. 



