When Sol pours down his floods of light,
So hot and so exceedingly bright,
Then let me hide in some cooling shade
Close by a murmuring cascade.
And in my cool and sheltered nook,
Give me a much loved friend--or a book;
Thus couch'd upon the verdant grass,
My happy hours shall quickly pass.
And my soul shall catch the lulling sound,
And be charm'd with the pleasing scenes around.
O! who could bear in this hot July
'Neath a beaming sun, and a cloudless sky,
To waste his life in the dusty streets,
A stranger to nature's rural sweets!
O! tell me, then, do you never sigh,
For the cooling breeze and clear blue sky--
The sequester'd walk, or the shady grove,
Where little birds chant their songs of love?
O! who would prefer the stifling town,
To the verdant meads and the mountains brown?
Or who wouldn't sometimes love to rove
By the crystal brook and the wood-nymph's grove?
But soon and the Summer shall pass away,
The flowers shall fade and the grass decay,
And Autumn shall come so yellow and sear,
And Winter too, black, cold and drear.
And Spring shall return, and her gentle breath
Shall revive the flowers long lock'd in death;
And Summer again shall array our bowers
With sweet perfumes and beautiful flowers.
Thus man like a flower shall fade and decay,
And earth's sweetest gems shall pass away,
And soon--and the gloomy grave shall close
On the wither'd leaf and the budding rose.
But Christ the Lord has prepared in his love,
A place in the Paradise above,
Where the flowers perfumed with His own shed blood
Shall be all gathered home by the Angels of God.
Then summer's drought and winter's cold showers,
Shall never more injure those Heavenly flowers;
Thus, while we look back on the storms we endured,
In hope we look forward when we'll be secured--
Transplanted to Eden forever to bloom,
No more to dread sorrow, sin, death or the tomb.
