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The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 4. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), Personal Poems (search)
d wood-paths that knew our tread, The maple shadows overhead,— The hills we climbed, the river seen By gleams along its deep ravine,— All keep thy memory fresh and green. Where'er I look, where'er I stray, Thy thought goes with me on my way, And hence the prayer I breathe to-day; O'er lapse of time and change of scene, The weary waste which lies between Thyself and me, my heart I lean. Thou lack'st not Friendship's spell-word, nor The half-unconscious power to draw All hearts to thine by Love's sweet law. With these good gifts of God is cast Thy lot, and many a charm thou hast To hold the blessed angels fast. If, then, a fervent wish for thee The gracious heavens will heed from me, What should, dear heart, its burden be? The sighing of a shaken reed,— What can I more than meekly plead The greatness of our common need? God's love,—unchanging, pure, and true,— The Paraclete white-shining through His peace,—the fall of Hermon's dew! With such a prayer, on this sweet day, A