The Sabbath is here. Our seed we have sown, In hope and in faith.
The Father He saith Amen! Be it so!
Behold the corn grow!
Rejoicing his goodness we"ll own.
The Sabbath is here. His love we will sing, Who sendeth the rain Upon the young grain.
Full soon all around The sickle will sound, And home the bright sheaves we will bring
The Sabbath is here. In hope and in love, We sow in the dust, While humbly we trust, Up yonder, shall grow The seed which we sow, And bloom a bright garland above.
TO A b.u.t.tERFLY.
[FREE TRANSLATION FROM HERDER.]
Airy, lovely, heavenly thing!
b.u.t.terfly with quivering wing!
Hovering, in thy transient hour, Over every bush and flower, Feasting upon flowers and dew, Thyself a brilliant blossom too.
Who, with rosy fingers fine, Purpled o"er those wings of thine?
Was it some sylph whose tender care Spangled thy robes so fine and fair, And wove them of the morning air?
I feel thy little throbbing heart.
Thou fear"st, e"en now, death"s bitter smart
Fly little spirit, fly away!
Be free and joyful, thy short day!
Image, thou dost seem to me, Of that which I may, one day, be, When I shall drop this robe of earth, And wake into a spirit"s birth.