The united opinion. [volume] (Bradford, Vt.) 1881-1970, 1886-09-17
Memories of the "Old Camp
Ground"

From nature, up to natures God look,
Then on this wood his written book;
To the gay careless child and the silveryhared sage;
Here trailing vines and the iowerlets f ir,
With sweetest perfumes fill the air;
The clear sparkling brooklet flashes along
Ger the white cleaning stones with its musical song.
Creeping now mid cool shadows where archng branches
hang low,
Almost kissing the waters, and with ceaseless flow,
Dancing in the sunlight then with rush and bound
1t again enters the shade, where its banks may be
Mid the thick emerald moss all the long thro
The sweet modest vioets of heavens deep blue
Thus with sparkle and murmur it continues glide,
lul 1t mingles and is lost in the rivers swift tide
Now penetrate deeper the cool. sylvan shade,
Follow the woodland path where others have strayd,
Soon pause, spell-bound at the wonderful sight,
Then escapes me a cry Of rapturous delight;
The deep velvety greenness gives back no sound,
As kneeing gaze on the beauties around;
See the starry-eyed innocents Of tenderest blue,
The delicate wind-fower Of purple hue. 4
The honey-suckle sweet, in whose scarlet BELL
The wild-roving honey bee loves to dwell
Violets more vioets gladden. my sight,
Azure, deep amber and snowy white
And ever stretching back and forth, between,
Wanders the trailing lengths Of the evergreen
A stray sunbeam slanting its bar Of gold,
Shows "Jack-in-the pulpit standing bold,
All around me there myrads on myriads of flowers,
As though angels had dropped them from heaven in
showers.
Of yonder in bright little sunlit space,
The "buter-cups and daisies" show their face
Commonest perhaps, but dearest Of all,
Beloved alike by poet and great and small,
And near, where the daisies are tarring the sod,
Waves the nodding plumes Of the golden rod
These beauties so lavishly spread at my feet,
Send on: clouds Of rich perfume wonderously sweet
Above me sways the soft-sighing murmuring pine;
That mingles spicy odcrs with the bossoming vine,
And near, the beech, the maple, and monarch king,
Far-reachng branches of emerald greenness fling;
But when the h, art of summer is pulseless and cold
They flush all the forest with crimson and gold
See the brght-eyed squirrel sitting the branches among
Anon chasing his neigbor in frolcsome fun;
They chatter and leap in their gay summer mood,
For they must 500. gather stores for their long winter
food
Hist what strains Of rich melody thrills the sumberous
Gushes of soul-melting music from widbirds so fair
The color must be lost from some beautiful rainbow
Fallen caught and imprisoned in their soft feathers glow
fancy the gates Of Gory-land must be left wide aar
Su oh music does it flow from the Best Mansion afar?
Perfect poetry Of motion in their graceful flight
Are these beautiful birds Of plumage bright;
And as one hutters down on green branch to rest
spy meath the foliage snug cosy home-nest;
To the dear mate who sits patiently hro the golden day
He MARBLES in low refrain his tender love-lay
l hear the musical tinkle of the distant be
OF mild-eyed kline in the green shady DELL
As they wander in search ef the cooling stream
And tempted alike by the wonderful CLEAN
OF sweet, golden cowslips they nibble content,
After they slake their thirst in the waters bend
Flowers music, perfume and birds and the days sunny
sweetness,
Thrills my soul with sense of perfect completeness.
question il this is earth then what heaven be,
When the beautiful gates pearl are opened to me
When enter the portals Of that land Of delight
And the glores of the heavenly home bursts sight?
All who can doubt there is an Infinite One,
Christ, the Father, and well-beloved Son?
Who can question there is power divine
When they behold all things beautiful wondrous sublime?
Here deep lessons learn OF faith, trust and love-
As He bends tenderly DER from his white throne above
Matte Smith Barber.
May 1886.