Blest hour of Peace, of Poetry, and Love!
Spell-breathing season--care-subduing time!
Dim emanation of a world above,
Hallowed and still, soft, soothing, and sublime!
My heaven-aspiring spirit seems to climb
Nearer to God, whose all-protecting wing
Shadows the universe; my feelings chime
In unison with every holy thing,
That memory can give, or meditation bring!

The voice of nature is a voice of power,
More eloquent than mortal lips can make;
And even now in this most solemn hour,
She bids my noblest sympathies awake.
Nature! I love all creatures for they sake,
But chiefly man, who is estranged from thee!
Oh! would that he would turn from strife, and take
Sweet lessons from thy love, and learn to be
Submissive to thy laws, wise, happy, good, and free!

Now the lone twilight, like a widowed maiden,
Pale, pure, and pensive, steals along the skies;
With dewy tears the sleeping flowers are laden--
The leaves are stirred with spiritual sighs;
The stars are looking down with radiant eyes,
Like hosts of watchful Cherubim, that guard
A wide and weary world; the glow worm lies,
A living gem upon the grassy sward,
Uncared for and unsought, save by the wandering bard.

Now 'tis the trysting time, when lovers walk
By many a wild and solitary way,
Winging the moments with enraptured talk--
Breaking the silence with some plaintive lay:
Hushed be the tongue that flatters to betray
Confiding Woman in the tender hour;
Sad be the heart, that will not own the sway
Of her ennobling, soul-refining power,--
She, of life's stormy wild the only constant flower.

I journey homeward; for the taper's light
Gleams from the scattered dwellings of the poor,
Down the steep valleys, up the mountain's height,
And o'er the barren surface of the moor;
Shadows are round me as I tread the floor
Of balmy breathing fields; my weary feet
Bear me right onward to my cottage door;--
I cross my threshold--take my accustomed seat,
And feel, as I have always felt, that home is sweet!

My wife receives me with a quiet smile,
Gentle and kind as wife should ever be;
My joyous little ones press round the while,
And take their wonted places on my knee:
Now with my chosen friends, sincere and free,
I pass the remnant of the night away;
Temper grave converse with becoming glee--
Wear in my face a heart serenely gay,
And wish that human life were one long Sabbath-day.

Some poet's song inspiring hope and gladness,
Gives to my social joys a sweeter zest;
Some tale of human suffering and sadness
Brings out the deeper feelings of my breast.
Sad for the millions stricken and oppressed,
My cheeks with tears of sympathy impearled,
I urge my little household unto rest,
Till morn her rosy banner hath unfurl'd
And care shall call me forth to battle with the world.

Blest Sabbath time! on life's tempestuous ocean,
The poor man's only haven of repose--
Oh, thou hast wakened many a sweet emotion,
Since morning's sun upon thy being rose!
Now thou art wearing gently to a close--
Thy starry pinions are prepared for flight--
A dim forgetfulness within me grows--
External things are stealing from my sight--
Good night! departing Sabbath of my soul--good night!