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The rugged trees are mingling Their flowery sprays in love The ivy climbs the laurel To clasp the boughs above.

William C. Bryant

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William C. Bryant
Climbs
Clasp
Trees
Laurel
Tree
Boughs
Love
Mingling
Ivy
Rugged
Laurels
Sprays
Spray
Flowery

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Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson.
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The gentle race of flowers Are lying in their lowly beds.
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Look on this beautiful world, and read the truth in her fair page.
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Truth crushed to earth shall rise again,- The eternal years of God are hers But Error, wounded, writhes with pain, And dies among his worshippers.
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Stand here by my side and turn, I pray, On the lake below thy gentle eyes The clouds hang over it, heavy and gray, And dark and silent the water lies And out of that frozen mist the snow In wavering flakes begins to flow Flake after flake, They sink in the dark and silent lake.
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Do not the bright June roses blow To meet thy kiss at morning hours?
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And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief, and the year smiles as it draws near its death.
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Hark to that shrill, sudden shout, The cry of an applauding multitude, Swayed by some loud-voiced orator who wields The living mass as if he were its soul!
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Gently - so have good men taught - Gently, and without grief, the old shall glide Into the new the eternal flow of things, Like a bright river of the fields of heaven, Shall journey onward in perpetual peace.
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