Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
America: Vols. XXV–XXIX. 1876–79.
The Sabbath Evening Walk
By George Washington Greene (1811–1883)W
With dewy shadows soft; the mountain-tops
With clear sharp outline gleaming still in light,
And at our feet, meadow, and waving grain,
And orchards clustering round the village roof.
Our seat was in the shadow of a grove
Of fir-trees and tall pines, amid whose boughs,
Heavy with dew, the delicate-fingered wind
Played mournful airs. Anon from out the vale
Came various sounds commingled, pleasing all;
Watch-dog and lowing herd, and children’s laugh,
And vesper song of some belated bird.
Once, too, the village bell awoke; a peal
Solemn, yet soothing, deep and silvery tones,
Floating in liquid cadence on the wind,
And mingling with the music of the pines.
And this was once thy home; familiar all
To thy dear eyes these scenes so new to mine.
Yon dewy valley with its Sabbath smile,
You fir-clad mountains girding it around,
And yonder village with its single street,
Beheld thy joyous girlhood, and the growth
Of that pure spirit whose sweet ministry
Hath taught my world-worn heart to trust again.
Ah! how mysteriously the threads of life
Are woven. In the sunshine of those days,
No revelation came to tell thy heart
For whom its stores of love were ripening;
Nor mid the shadows that encompassed me
Had even one faint sunbeam pierced! and now,
Hand within hand, and heart on heart reposing,
My sadder nature drawing light from thee,
And tempering the buoyancy of thine,
We stand, and bless together this sweet vale,
And treasure up for memory’s dearest page
Our Sabbath evening’s walk beneath the pines.