And when the solemn and deep church- Then comes the summer-like day, Bids the old man rejoice! His joy! his last! Oh, the old man Is hollowed out, and the moon dips her And silver beech, and maple yellow leaved, Where Autumn, like a faint old man, sits down By the wayside a-weary. Through the trees The golden robin moves. The purple finch, That on wild cherry and red cedar feeds, A winter bird, comes with its plaintive whistle, And pecks by the witch-hazel, whilst aloud From cottage roofs the warbling bluebird sings, And merrily, with oft-repeated stroke, Sounds from the threshing-floor the busy flail. Oh, what a glory doth this world put on For him who, with a fervent heart, goes forth Under the bright and glorious sky, and looks HYMN OF THE MORAVIAN NUNS OF BETHLEHEM II And summer winds the stillness broke, And gathering winds, in hoarse acThe crystal icicle is hung. Where, from their frozen urns, mute springs Pour out the river's gradual tide, Shrilly the skater's iron rings, And voices fill the woodland side. cord, Amid the vocal reeds pipe loud. Chill airs and wintry winds! my ear |