William Cullen Bryant

The groves were God's first temples.

The groves were God's first temples.

Pleasantly, between the pelting showers, the sunshine gushes
down.

Pleasantly, between the pelting showers, the sunshine gushes
down.

The February sunshine steeps your boughs
And tints the buds and swells the leaves within.

The February sunshine steeps your boughs
And tints the buds and swells the leaves within.

Where fall the tears of love the rose appears,
And where the ground is bright with friendship's tears,
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Where fall the tears of love the rose appears,
And where the ground is bright with friendship's tears,
Forget-me-not, and violets, heavenly blue,
Spring glittering with the cheerful drops like dew.

Wind of the sunny south! oh, still delay
In the gay woods and in the golden air,
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Wind of the sunny south! oh, still delay
In the gay woods and in the golden air,
Like to a good old age released from care,
Journeying, in long serenity, away.
In such a bright, late quiet, would that I
Might wear out life like thee, mid bowers and brooks,
And, dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks,
And music of kind voices ever nigh;
And when my last sand twinkled in the glass,
Pass silently from men as thou dost pass.