Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/Female Piety
Female Piety.
'Tis sweet to see the opening rose
Spread its fair bosom to the sky;
'Tis sweet to view, at twilight's close,
The heavens' bespangled canopy.
Spread its fair bosom to the sky;
'Tis sweet to view, at twilight's close,
The heavens' bespangled canopy.
'Tis sweet, amid the vernal grove,
To hear the thrush's fervent lay,
Or lark, that wings his flight above,
To hail the dawning of the day.
To hear the thrush's fervent lay,
Or lark, that wings his flight above,
To hail the dawning of the day.
But sweeter far is maiden's eye
Upraised to heaven in pious prayer,
When, bathed in tears, she looks on high,
What sacred eloquence is there!
Upraised to heaven in pious prayer,
When, bathed in tears, she looks on high,
What sacred eloquence is there!
Oh! sweeter far that sacred name,
"My Father!" uttered by her tongue;
And sweeter when her heavenly flame
Ascends in pious, holy song.
"My Father!" uttered by her tongue;
And sweeter when her heavenly flame
Ascends in pious, holy song.
Oh! sweet when on the bended knee,
Her thoughts, her spirit mount above
In pious, deep-felt ecstacy,
To realms of everlasting love!
Her thoughts, her spirit mount above
In pious, deep-felt ecstacy,
To realms of everlasting love!