Autumn: Tuesday Morning Poem by John Bowring

Autumn: Tuesday Morning



The stars have sunk in yon concave blue,
And the sun is peeping thro' the dew;
Thy Spirit, Lord! doth nature fill-
Before Thee angels' tongues are still,
And seraphs hush their golden strings
In Thy high presence, King of kings!
How then shall I, a clod of clay,
Or lift my voice, or tune my lay?


Thou! who the realms of space and time
Dost people with Thy might sublime;
Whose power is felt below, above,
Felt in Thy wisdom, in Thy love;
Whose awful voice is heard around,
Heard in its silence as its sound;
Whose lovely Spirit doth pervade
Alike the sunshine and the shade,
And shines and smiles in sorrow's night
As clearly as in pleasure's light.
Thou in the evening's silence deep
Cradlest the weary world in sleep;
And, when the sun mounts o'er the hill,
Call'st us our duties to fulfil.


'Tis Thou who o'er the billowy sea
Dost ride in awful majesty,
Walkest sublime on the winds, and greetest
The spirit of day, when, fairest and sweetest,
It fills the bosom of nature with bliss-
In moments as calm and holy as this.
We see Thee then in light arrayed,
Dispersing all the twilight's shade,
Tuning the music of the bee,
Painting the flowers' variety,
Waking the thousand smiles that are playing
On morning's cheeks,-and viewless straying
With the mild breeze, over hill and plain,
Turning to gold the autumnal grain,
Giving the rose its blushing hue,
Changing to diamonds drops of dew,
Gathering the vapours from the main,
Scattering them o'er the earth again:
Then it is that nature's throng
Join in the joyous, general song;
Then Thy Spirit shines brighter, clearer,
Then Thy voice speaks softer, nearer;
Then Thy sun would seem to wear
His festival robes of beauty rare,
And all creation, glad and gay,
Revels as in a holiday.


Lord! Thou hast thunders-but they sleep;
Storms-but they now their prisons keep:
Nothing is breathing below, above,
But the spirit of harmony, joy and love;
Nothing is seen or heard around,
But beauty's smiles, and music's sound,
Music re-echoed in earth and air,
Beauty that's visible every where:
Join the concert-share the joy;
Why should the cares of earth alloy
Pleasures which heaven itself has given,
Heavenly pleasures which lead to heaven?

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