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Monday, September 26, 2011

Sunrise on the Hills ~ Henry W. Longfellow

I stood upon the hills, when heaven's wide arch
Was glorious with the sun's returning march.
And the woods were brightened, and soft gales
Went forth to kiss the sun-clad vales.
The clouds were far beneath me; bathed in light
They gathered mid-way round the wooded height,
And, in their fading glory, shone
Like hosts in battle overthrown.
As many a pinnacle, with shifting glance.
Through the gray mist thrust up its shattered lance.
And rocking on the cliff was left
The dark pine, blasted, bare, and cleft.
The veil of cloud was lifted, and below
Glowed the rich valley, and the river's flow
Was darkened by the forest's shade,
Or glistened in the white cascade;
Where upward, in the mellow blush of day,
The noisy bittern wheeled his spiral way.

I hear the distant waters dash.
I saw the current whirl and flash.
And richly, by the blue lake's silver beach,
The wood were bending with a silent reach.
Then o'er the vale, with gentle swell,
The music of the village bell
Came sweetly to the echo-giving hills;
And the wild horn, whose voice the woodland fills,
Was ringing to the merry shout,
That faint and far the glen sent out,
Where, answering to the sudden shot, thin smoke,
Through thick-leaved branches, from the dingle broke.

If thou art worn and hard beset
With sorrows, that thou wouldst forget.
If thou wouldst read a lesson, that will keep
Thy heart from fainting and thy soul from sleep,
Go to the woods and hills! No tears
Dim the sweet look that Nature wears.

2 comments:

Nolan said...

This is such a beautiful poem. I had no idea that the short but sweet paragraph you had posted was part of a more beautiful writing!

Ms. Pajak said...

Yes, it is indeed very beautiful. I never heard of this poem by Longfellow until last week.