Nature’s Music

Of many gifts bestowed on earth
  To cheer a lonely hour,
Oh is there one of equal worth
  With music’s magic power?
’Twill charm each angry thought to rest,
  ’Twill gloomy care dispel,
And ever we its power can test,—
  All nature breathes its spell.

There’s music in the sighing tone
  Of the soft, southern breeze
That whispers thro’ the flowers lone,
  And bends the stately trees,
And—in the mighty ocean’s chime,
  The crested breakers roar,
The wild waves, ceaseless surge sublime,
  Breaking upon the shore.

There’s music in the bulbul’s note,
  Warbling its vesper lay
In some fair spot, from man remote,
  Where wind and flowers play;
But, oh! beyond the sweetest strain
  Of bird, or wave, or grove
Is that soother of our hours of pain—
  The voice of those we love.

When sorrow weigheth down the heart
  The night birds sweetest lay—
The harp’s most wild and thrilling art—
  Care cannot chase away;
But let affection’s voice be heard,
  New springs of life ’twill ope,—
One word—one little loving word—
  Will bring relief and hope.