El sol de Mayo envuelve en esplendores
Prado y selva, de nuevo floreciente;
Mas la que á honrar venía estos verdores
Con sonrisa aun más pura y más fulgente,
En soledad reposa
...
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No sólo en yermo llano,
Ni allá en selvoso apartamiento esquivo,
El pensamiento humano
Puede á Dios contemplar presente y vivo;
Ni sólo oye su acento
Donde la onda retumba y silba el viento....
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Murmurando á la contina
Sopla alada ventolina,
Y retostadas y rojas
Cual copos de luz, las hojas
Remolina.Ya mustia campiña rása,
Ya el árbol que el sol abrasa
Roza en blando movimiento;
Doquier de otoño el aliento
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Je parlais, je parlais, j’allais parler toujours,
Quand sur mon front sentis quelque chose d’étrange,
Et s’arrêta soudain mon orgueilleux discours.
Et puis il me sembla que j’entendais un Ange.L’Ange me dit : “ Si j’étais toi
De mon temps ferais mieux l’emploi,
Qu’à critiquer de Dieu les œuvres et la loi :“ Ne gaspillerais...
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To him who in the love of Nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language; for his gayer hours
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile
And eloquence of beauty, and she glides
Into his darker musings, with a mild
And healing sympathy, that steals away
Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts
Of... -
whither, midst falling dew,
While glow the heavens with the last steps of day,
Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue
Thy solitary way?Vainly the fowler’s eye
Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong,
As, darkly painted on the crimson sky,
Thy figure floats along.Seek’st thou the plashy...
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O fairest of the rural maids!
Thy birth was in the forest shades;
Green boughs, and glimpses of the sky,
Were all that met thine infant eye.Thy sports, thy wanderings, when a child,
Were ever in the sylvan wild;
And all the beauty of the place
Is in thy heart and on thy face.The twilight of the trees and rocks
Is in... -
The groves were God’s first temples. Ere man learned
To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave,
And spread the roof above them—ere he framed
The lofty vault, to gather and roll back
The sound of anthems; in the darkling wood,
Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down,
And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks
And supplication. For his... -
I gazed upon the glorious sky
And the green mountains round,
And thought that when I came to lie
At rest within the ground,
’T were pleasant that, in flowery June,
When brooks send up a cheerful tune,
And groves a joyous sound,
The sexton’s hand, my grave to make,
The rich, green mountain-turf should break.A...
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The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year,
Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere.
Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead;
They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit’s tread.
The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the jay,
And from the wood-top calls the crow through all...