  Sweet is the swart earth After the April rain; It will give the violets birth, And quicken the grass in the plain. The woodlands are dim—with dreams Of the region they lately have left; Like Man and his thoughts of Eden— Of something of which he's bereft. The stars they have left their veils On the everlasting hills; And angels have trodden the dales, And spirits have touched the rills. And truths to be seen and heard, Say Love has made all things his own; He reigns in the breast of the bird, And has made the earth's bosom his throne. The pansies peep by the brook, And the primrose is pure in the sun; The world wears a heavenly look, Man's spirit and Nature are one. The cottage that glints through the trees, And the moss-cushioned, lilac-plumed wall, The woodland, and emerald leas Are touched with the Spirit of all. Printed and Published by W. & R. Chambers, 47 Paternoster Row, London, and 339 High Street, Edinburgh. All Rights Reserved. |
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