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To one who
has been long in city pent
'Tis very sweet to look
into the fair
And open face of heaven, -to breathe a
prayer
Full in the smile of the blue firmament.
Who is more happy, when, with heart's content,
Fatigued he sinks into some pleasant lair
Of wavy
grass, and reads a debonair
And gentle tale of love
and languishment?
Returning home at evening, with an
ear
Catching the notes of Philomel, -an eye
Watching the sailing cloudlet's bright career,
He
mourns that day so soon has glided by,
E'en like the
passage of an angel's tear
That falls through the
clear ether silently.
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