Harriet Beecher Stowe

“ Ah! breathe that life-born languor from thy breast,
And know once more a child's unreasoning joy.
Cease, cease to think, and be content to be;
Swing safe at anchor in fair Nature's bay;
Reason no more, but o'er thy quiet soul
Let God's sweet teachings ripple their soft way.
Soar with the birds, and flutter with the leaf;
Dance with the seeded grass in fringy play;
Sail with the cloud, wave with the dreaming pine,
And float with Nature all the livelong day.
Call not such hours an idle waste of time,—
Land that lies fallow gains a quiet power ”

“ And thousand bells of pearl the blueberry rings.
The long, weird fingers of the old white-pines
Do beckon thee into the flickering wood,
Where moving spots of light show mystic flowers,
And wavering music fills the dreamy hours. ”