The Good Day
Between the slender lofty trees
who's boughs near touched overhead,
And sounds of busy humming bees,
My wandering feet are gently lead.
Down winding little narrow lane,
Across the rolling countryside.
To steeple church with weathered vane,
And daring squirrels quickly hide,
Patchwork of fields, dappled green,
The waving greatly heads of corn,
Then sprays of barley green.
And sound of bells softly borne;
that look to Heaven slowly wings,
With throbbing song that fills the sky
and lovely peace of summer brings,
And scudding clouds riding high!
Oh God! The beauty I have seen!
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Reverie!
I sat and gazed in silent awe,
upon that glorious scene,
the sky and sea, and hung between
Them both the glittering shore.
And as I watched, the blue
of the sky, deepened to gray
Heralding the close of day
As even it must do.
And there, upon the headland far away,
Etched out against the glowing sunset
Rose fairy like, as if of lace or silvered net
A tower, bequeathed to us from olden days
Like the castle of dreams
It stood and seemed to me to beckon
As the wolfs sang their sad song
To the suns retreating beams.
And still the dusk comes lazily on
Shadows crept slowly o'er the tower
Stood still come on again as of to lower
Day's light that emerged to long
stars broke though the sky
Hurrying to meet the moon
Lest she so soon
Should be hidden from their eye.
I sat and pondered thoughtfully
On that beautiful starlit night
How amongst all this majesty and might.
A place is found for me.
And that an atom insignificant as I
Should be set o'er all creation
Is still a revelation
And will be till I die!
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