AMIDST the thrilling leaves, Thy voice At evening's fall drew near; Father! and did not man rejoice That blessed sound to hear? Did not his heart within him burn, Touched by the solemn tone? Not so! -- for, never to return, Its purity was gone. Therefore, midst holy stream and bower, His spirit shook with dread, And called the cedars, in that hour, To veil his conscious head. Oh! in each wind, each fountain-flow, Each whisper of the shade, Grant me, my God! Thy voice to know And not to be afraid! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VENUS OF THE LOUVRE by EMMA LAZARUS THE LARK ASCENDING by GEORGE MEREDITH THE PUMPKIN by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER SONG OF YOUTH by LULU PIPER AIKEN ON THE PASSING OF THE LAST FIRE HORSE FROM MANHATTAN ISLAND by KENNETH SLADE ALLING BODY AND SOUL by AWHAD AD-DIN 'ALI IBN VAHID MUHAMMAD KHAVARANI |