Classic Poem

Thou glorious spirit of life and love!
There is not a leaf or flower,
That spreads to the sun, when meadow and grove
Awake with the April shower, —
There is not a creature that walks the earth,
And is glad in his liberty,
But feels and knows, from his earliest birth,
How his being is full of thee.

The waters, that fall from the mountain's brow,
Or in verdurous valleys flow;
The waves, that around the gallant prow
In the noon-light flash and glow;
The sea, as it heaves from the line to the pole,
In calm or in tempest — free,
Feels deep in its heart the enlivening soul, —
The ocean is full of thee.

The clouds that hang in the evening sky,
And burn with the setting sun;
The glorious beings who meet on high
When the light of day is done;
The brightness that fills the boundless blue,
When the shades of twilight flee, —
O, the quickening air with its rain and dew, —
The air is full of thee.