The Cambridge Book of Poetry and Song

Build me a shrine, and I could kneel
To rural gods, or prostrate fall;
Did I not see, did I not feel,

That one GREAT SPIRIT governs all.
Heaven, permit that I may lie

Where o'er my corse green branches wave;

And those who from life's tumult fly With kindred feelings, press my grave.

GLEANER'S SONG.

DEAR Ellen, your tales are all plenteously stored
With the joys of some bride, and the wealth of her lord;
Of her chariots and dresses,

And worldly caresses,

And servants that fly when she's waited upon:
But what can she boast if she weds unbeloved?
Can she e'er feel the joy that one morning I proved,
When I put on my new gown and waited for John?

These fields, my dear Ellen, I knew them of yore,
Yet to me they ne'er look'd so enchanting before;
The distant bells ringing,

The birds round us singing,

For pleasure is pure when affection is won:
They told me the troubles and cares of a wife;
But I loved him; and that was the pride of my life,
When I put on my new gown and waited for John.

He shouted and ran, as he leapt from the stile;
And what in my bosom was passing the while ?
For love knows the blessing
Of ardent caressing,

When virtue inspires us, and doubts are all gone.
The sunshine of Fortune you say is divine;
True love and the sunshine of Nature were mine,
When I put on my new gown and waited for John.

The wild bird pours her glad and fearless lay,

That, with the sunbeams, falls upon the vale,

Adding fresh brightness to the smile of day,

'Neath those broad boughs the youth lias told love's tale;

And thou hast seen his hardy features blanch,

Heard his snared heart beat like a prisoned bird,

Fluttering with fear, before the fowler laid;

While his bold figure shook at every word

The strong man trembling at а timid maid!

And thou hast smiled upon their children's play;

Seen them grow old, and gray, and pass away.

Nor 'neath life's ruthless tempests bend:

But calmly stand like thee,
Though wrath and storm shake

me,

Though vernal hopes in yellow Autumn end,

And strong in truth work out my destiny.

Type of long-suffering Power! Type of unbending Will! Strong in the tempest's hour, Bright when the storm is still; Rising from every contest with an unbroken heart,

Strengthened by every struggle,

emblem of might thou art! Sign of what man can compass, spite of an adverse state,

Still, from thy rocky summit, teach us to war with fate!