FORGET Thee, oh my God! and can this be? | |
| Earth with thy thousand voices answer me! | |
| Ye midnight heavens gazing with eyes so bright | |
| Upon the silent eloquence of night | |
| Speak of thy Maker! Speak thou glorious sun | 5 |
| And thou enchanting moon! ethereal one | |
| Tell me of Him. | |
| Oh! exquisite and clear | |
| Were those soft words upon my listening ear; | |
| Oh! eloquence divine of Nature’s voice | 10 |
| Whose thrilling accents spoke: | |
| “Fond heart rejoice, | |
| For we forget not God; there is no hour | |
| When we could live without His love—His power.” | |
| “Each moment,” sighed the pale and blushing rose, | 15 |
| “The wonders of my Maker I disclose;” | |
| And every flower throughout the garden fair | |
| Mingles its grateful perfume with the air, | |
| Like incense, rising with a heavenly prayer, | |
| Speaks each in varied tone its faithful love | 20 |
| Crowned with eternal beauty from above. | |
| “Ah! not in thee forgetfulness,” I said, | |
| “Emblems of faithful love! I too would shed | |
| My heart’s best incense on that holy shrine | |
| To burn forever.” Then, with sound divine, | 25 |
| Teeming with melody the stately trees | |
| And graceful wheat bowing to every breeze | |
| In whispered chorus spoke His wonderous skill | |
| And their obedience to His blessed will. | |
| I gazed in rapture on those fields so sweet | 30 |
| Whose every blade bowed low as if to meet | |
| The faintest breath of wind which seemed to bring | |
| The thought of God upon its angel wing. | |
| Oh! Nature, exquisitely calm and bright! | |
| Your Maker is your life, your soul’s delight. | 35 |
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