Poetry Archives

In forest shade my couch is made.
  And there I calmly lie,
With thought confined in pensive mind,
  And contemplate the sky;
I wonder if the frowning cliff,
  The valley and the wood,
Or rugged freaks of mountain peaks,
  Enjoy their solitude.

The heavens hold a sphere of gold,
  A full and placid moon,
Suspended high, in cloudless sky,
  With constellations strewn;
Its mellow beam, on rill and stream,
  In silvery sheen I see;
Before its light, the shades of night
  As evil spirits, flee.

In space afar, a shooting star,
  With swift, uncertain course,
In dazzling sparks its passage marks,
  As it expends its force;
The mountains bare reflect its glare
  Of weird, unearthly light,
And e’en the skies, in glad surprise,
  Behold its gorgeous flight.

The spruce and pine, at timber-line,
  In straggling patches strewn,
Surcharge the breeze with melodies,
  The forests’ plaintive tune;
As they descend, the waters blend
  In babbling harmony,
And soothe to rest my tranquil breast,
  With Nature’s lullaby.