Peace o'er the landscape; through the high thin air
"God's bows and arrows," dark-wing'd swallows, cleave.
And on the warm hillside the green hops weave
Their graceful garlands that full harvest bear.
Here, in the border, rain-washed, all things fair
Incline their heads to rest, for herald eve
Thus early doth the Sabbath hours perceive,
And every fragrant blossom breathes a prayer.
Then fret no more, my heart, but steep thyself
In tender twilight and refreshing dew,
And with calm Nature vigil keep awhile ;
Put by all daily toil, all thought of pelf;
Not less for grace 'mid leafy alleys sue
Than in some grand cathedral's vaulted aisle.
~~
Caroline Blanche Elizabeth Lindsay (1844-1912)
from Poems (Selected), 1907
[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]
Caroline Blanche Elizabeth Lindsay biography
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