The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 4.
John Greenleaf Whittier, Ed.

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[101]
     As through the open minster floats
The song of breeze and bird!
     Not less the wonder of the sky
That daisies bloom below;
     The brook sings on, though loud and high
The cloudy organs blow!

And, if the tender ear be jarred
     That, haply, hears by turns
The saintly harp of Olney's bard,
     The pastoral pipe of Burns,
No discord mars His perfect plan
     Who gave them both a tongue;
For he who sings the love of man
     The love of God hath sung!

To-day be every fault forgiven
     Of him in whom we joy!
We take, with thanks, the gold of Heaven
     And leave the earth's alloy.
Be ours his music as of spring,
     His sweetness as of flowers,
The songs the bard himself might sing
     In holier ears than ours.

Sweet airs of love and home, the hum
     Of household melodies,
Come singing, as the robins come
     To sing in door-yard trees.
And, heart to heart, two nations lean,
     No rival wreaths to twine,
But blending in eternal green
     The holly and the pine!