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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


FOREST WORSHIP by EBENEZER ELLIOTT

First Line: WITHIN THE SUNLIT FOREST
Last Line: THE STORM OF HEAVEN FROM SPEAKING.
Subject(s): FORESTS; WOODS;

WITHIN the sun-lit forest,
Our roof the bright blue sky,
Where fountains flow, and wild flowers blow,
We lift our hearts on high:
Beneath the frown of wicked men
Our country's strength is bowing;
But, thanks to God! they can't prevent
The lone wildflowers from blowing!

High, high above the tree-tops,
The lark is soaring free;
Where streams the light through broken clouds
His speckled breast I see:
Beneath the might of wicked men
The poor man's worth is dying;
But, thank'd be God! in spite of them,
The lark still warbles flying!

The preacher prays, "Lord, bless us!"
"Lord, bless us!" echo cries;
"Amen!" the breezes murmur low,
"Amen!" the rill replies:
The ceaseless toil of wo-worn hearts
The proud with pangs are paying,
But here, O God of earth and heaven!
The humble heart is praying?

How softly, in the pauses
Of song, re-echoed wide,
The cushat's coo, the linnet's lay,
O'er rill and river glide!
With evil deeds of evil men
The affrighted land is ringing;
But still, O Lord! the pious heart
And soul-toned voice are singing!

Hush! hush! the preacher preacheth:
"Wo to the oppressor, wo!"
But sudden gloom o'ercasts the sun
And sadden'd flowers below;
So frowns the Lord! -- but, tyrants, ye
Deride his indignation,
And see not in the gather'd brow
Your days of tribulation!

Speak low, thou heaven-paid teacher!
The tempest bursts above:
God whispers in the thunder: hear
The terrors of his love!
On useful hands, and honest hearts,
The base their wrath are wreaking;
But, thank'd be God! they can't prevent
The storm of heaven from speaking.



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