William Cullen Bryant

The groves were God's first temple. Ere man learned
To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave,
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The groves were God's first temple. 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,
Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down
And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks
And supplication.

And at my silent window-sill
The jessamine peeps in.

And at my silent window-sill
The jessamine peeps in.

I gazed upon the glorious sky
And the green mountains round,
And thought that when I came read more

I gazed upon the glorious sky
And the green mountains round,
And thought that when I came to lie
At rest within the ground,
'Twere 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.

The fiercest agonies have shortest reign;
And after dreams of horror, comes again
The welcome morning with read more

The fiercest agonies have shortest reign;
And after dreams of horror, comes again
The welcome morning with its rays of peace.

Ah, why
Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect
God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore
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Ah, why
Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect
God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore
Only among the crowd and under roofs
That our frail hands have raised?