Spring: Thursday Evening Poem by John Bowring

Peace 'neath the stars may fix her seat,
And bliss look smiling from on high,
When spirits hold communion sweet
With brighter spirits of the sky.
The earth is resting calmly now
Beneath the curtain'd shade of night,
The sun behind the mountain's brow
Has veil'd his last and lingering light.


Reviving sleep! thy sheltering wing
Is o'er the couch of labour spread;
Sweet minister-unearthly thing-
That hovers round the tired one's head.
As calm and cold as mortal clay
When life is fled, earth soundly sleeps;
When evening veils the eye of day,
And darkness rules the ocean deeps.


But, lighted 'neath heaven's temple arch,
Ten thousand stars are shining round,
And all on their imposing march
Thine everlasting praise resound.
A thousand, thousand joyful tongues
Are heard in heaven when earth is still;
And echoes of unnumbered songs
The vast extent of nature fill.


O then Thy spirit, Lord! anew
Enkindles strength in sleeping men;
It falls as falls the evening dew-
And life's sad waste repairs again.
While mildly o'er the deep repose
Peace smiles from her exalted throne,
In sleep a million eyelids close-
Heaven watches-and heaven wakes alone.


Preserving, blessing, guarding all,
The night and day His smile inspires;
He sits beneath His star-roof'd hall,
And never slumbers-never tires:
No rest requites His ceaseless toil-
He never faints, He needs not rest:
Man sinks to deep repose awhile;
God reigns untired-immortal-blest.


Then let me, led by Him, pursue
My path, from folly's slavery free;
Throw off my chain-and then renew
My journey towards eternity.
Be nature's gentle slumbers mine-
And lead me gently to the last,
Until I hear Thy voice divine-
'Awake! for death's long night is past.'