Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1856-09-18
EVENING STAR.
From the Louisville Journal.
THE HOOKING -B1 & D.


IsscytBsd 10 S. A. S.
sYrus REV. HRMPsTRAD.
The morn comes tripping up the sky,
And dancing DER the d8dal earth,
Whose woods and streams beneath her eve,
Leap upward to a glorious birth,
A second youth Of life and song
As rich and fair as when along
Creations morning hills peal'd out
Thefrolling hymn, the boundless shout
Potfsd from the lips Of spotless ones
Jehovah's crown'd and radiant Sons.
From out the alder chirps the wren,
The partridge whistles from the glen,
Up floats gush OF laughter CAV,
FROM childen at their early play,
Where the thick woodbine's odorous torch
6leams through the planters shaded porch,
And the bold king birds angry cry
Jars, like battle trumpet, by;
But who Is be that all night long
Has pour'd bis silvery music storm,
And with the glory Of his song
Made the dead heart Of silence warm,
Nor yet through morning gilded rays
On roof and field and woodland blaze,
Forgets against the dawn TO pour
The wealth Of his eHbaustless lore
Far in the deep ard holy hight,
Great solemn mother Of the stars,
Whilst DER the wall, in haunted light,
The sad moon slants her pallid bars
on then a wi d ard sudden strain
Comes like cloud Of golden rain
So strangely sweet and wild tone
steals on the mid night di IN and lone,
go sweetly CLEAR its accents come
Across the still nights drowsv gloom
1 deem some angel form hath stray'd
EarthwaTd from courts that shine Of hish
Once more to walk the fragrant shade,
And link again the earth and sky.
Thou from whose all creating hand,
nlifeless space, each rushing world,
To roll amidst the shining band,
Upon creations morn, was hurl'd
And whose mysterious tender sway,
Still guides II on Its radiant way,
Give me to fear that plastic skin,
Which grants TO earth's most lovely things,
The glorious garb, the potent skill,
Unoought by all the pomp Of kings
Which gives to one the wreath and crown,
To one, Diaster's iron frown,
And with wild bird s gushing bill,
The boast Of human art can still,
And drown the Tyre and shane the lutr,
And make the biilowy organ mute.
Perched on yon topmost, qlittering thorn,
Bright leader Of the choiripg throng,
His heart against the cheek Of morn,
Exults the hero Of my song;
His dark eye flashing In the sun,
From swelling throat and am orous bill,
The music tides leap up and run
In clarion wave and 1isping Iill-
., nota love-chant e'er was sung,
And not lay was ever rung
From roof or bough, by airy tongue
". EOt tfemollng note or stain
Along the summer gale Is roll'd,
But, tangled In III at wondrous brain,
Is stored like sands Of native gold
To be, from his green, dewy throne,
In ripping miIth or anthem tone,
Pour'd forth TO culver, burn, and die
Along the lonely. listening sky.
And brighter glow the maiden's eyes,
And children clap their hands to hear
Such wild, imperial melodies
As well might suit a sinless sphere.
EIulting with an airy bound,
As tired Of earth's familiar ground,
Like some sweet thought, on fan like wings,
He toward the glittering welkin springs,
There hangs like melOdious cloud,
The shower and musio's pearly shroud,
Then backward to his perch, that bends
Beneath his regal feet, descends
As II, with JOYS deep vintage drunk,
He to his earthly bower had sunk
Thus newly perch'd he sings and sing,
And round his breezy challenge filings,
And forth his tuneful discord rings
From quick 10 slow, from gay to grave,
With wave succeeding golden wave;
Now nom he tall oak topmost bough
He pours his silver rain, and now
From sloping roof or garden pale
With sweetness falls the lingering gale
Now DER the furrowed fields afar
Curves downward like shooting star
That from its pathway backward pours
An anthem towards the heavenly shores:
Now on the lowly cotton crest
His bread and cleaning pinons rest,
And shaking with his dappled plumes
The gold-dus from It's yellow blooms
With rosy storm and diamond shower.
To silence charms the monday hour
All spirits Of sweet sound that dwell
In the soft flutes melodious CELL
And all the lute-like tones that sleep
Far In the wildwood, dark and d. er
The blue birds chirp, the noisy wren,
The partridge piping from the glen,
The martin calling from the caves
The red-Iird from his bower Of leaves,
The lark that toward his nestlings pours
A greeting, as he sunward scars
AL breathe and burn within thy Law,
Wild warbler on the Southern spray;
And crown thee first Of tuneful throngs,
Bird Of the thousand silver songs,
La.