The trees stood motionless around me, hued
In vesture bright;
The broad sun from his cloudless solitude
Filled them with light.

The turf was gorgeous with autumnal leaves,
Mute in their rest;
There was no sound of joy, or grief, that heaves
Its sighs suppressed.

Like a great Angel, beauty cast her wreath
Of love on earth,
Watching her slumbrous as a child beneath,
In its first birth.

A tone of tenderness was felt between
Her and calm heaven;
Remembrances maternal that had been
Received and given.

I said — " O Spirit of God! we thus avow
Thy presence felt:
We see Thee not, nor hear, we feel that Thou
Hast in us dwelt.

" We give Thee back the triad Thou hast given,
Hope, faith, and joy;
Life breathed from Thee, and yearning toward thy heaven,
Nought can destroy."

I ceased; a murmuring sound from silence grew;
The Air awoke,
And, as responsive to the truth it knew,
Its utterance spoke.

The veins of the crisped leaflets thrilled to mine;
I said, " O Spirit of Air!
Thou, entering thus great Nature as thy shrine.
Art God, pervading there."