Another night has turned itself to day,
Another day has melted into eve,
And lo! again I tread the measured way
Of word and thought, the twain to interweave,
As flowers absorb the rays that they receive.
And, all along the woodland where I stray,
I think of thee, and Nature keeps me gay,
And sorrow soothes the soul it would bereave.
Nor will I fear that thou, so far apart,
So dear to me, so fair, and so benign,
Wilt un-desire the fealty of a heart
Which evermore is pledg'd to thee and thine,
And turns to thee, in regions where thou art,
To hymn the praises of thy face divine!