Poetry Archives

It is a beauteous evening, calm and free,
  The holy time is quiet as a Nun
  Breathless with adoration; the broad sun
Is sinking down in its tranquillity;
The gentleness of heaven broods o’er the sea:
  Listen! the mighty Being is awake,
  And doth with his eternal motion make
A sound like thunder—everlastingly.
Dear Child! dear Girl! that walkest with me here,
  If thou appear untouch’d by solemn thought,
  Thy nature is not therefore less divine:
Thou liest in Abraham’s bosom all the year;
  And worshipp’st at the Temple’s inner shrine,
  God being with thee when we know it not.