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Where safe and happily he might have lurk'd,)
Now, let me trace the stream up to its source
Into the open air: grateful the breeze
That fans my throbbing temples! smiles the plain Spread wide below: how sweet the placid view! But O! more sweet the thought, heart-soothing
thought, That thousands, and ten thousands of the sons Of toil, partake this day the common joy Of rest, of peace, of viewing hill and dale, Of breathing in the silence of the woods, And blessing him who gave the Sabbath day. Yes, my heart flutters with a freer throb, To think that now the townsman wanders forth (1) Among the fields and meadows, to enjoy The coolness of the day's decline, to see His children sport around, and simply pull The flower and weed promiscuous, as a boon Which proudly in his breast they smiling fix.
Again I turn me to the hill, and trace The wizard stream, now scarce to be discern'd, Woodless its banks, but green with ferny leaves, And thinly strew'd with heath-bells up and down.
Now, when the downward sun has left the glens, Each mountain's rugged lineaments are trac'd Upon the adverse slope, where si.alks gigantic The shepherd's shadow thrown athwart the chasm, As on the topmost ridge he homeward hies. How deep the hush ! the torrent's channel dry, Presents a stony steep, the echo's haunt. But hark a plaintive sound floating along! 'Tis from yon heath-roof'd shielin; now it dies Away, now rises full; it is the song Which He,—who listens to the halleluiahs
Of choiring Seraphim—delights to hear;
W Hen homeward bands their sev'ral ways dis-