The stormy March is come at last,
With wind, and cloud, and changing skies,
I hear the rushing of the blast,
That through the snowy valley flies.
...
When the radiant morn of creation broke,
And the world in the smile of God awoke,
And the empty realms of darkness and death
...
I.
Ye winds, ye unseen currents of the air,
Softly ye played a few brief hours ago;
Ye bore the murmuring bee; ye tossed the hair
...
The earth may ring, from shore to shore,
With echoes of a glorious name,
But he, whose loss our tears deplore,
...
Oh Life! I breathe thee in the breeze,
I feel thee bounding in my veins,
I see thee in these stretching trees,
...
A SONNET.
Chains may subdue the feeble spirit, but thee,
Tell, of the iron heart! they could not tame!
...
A power is on the earth and in the air,
From which the vital spirit shrinks afraid,
And shelters him, in nooks of deepest shade,
...
Oh, slow to smit and swift to spare,
Gentle and merciful and just!
Who, in the fear of God, didst bear
The sword of power, a nation's trust!
...
Upon the mountain's distant head,
With trackless snows for ever white,
Where all is still, and cold, and dead,
...
All things that are on earth shall wholly pass away,
Except the love of God, which shall live and last for aye
...