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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=409666" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Thanksgiving</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When first in ancient time, from Jubal's tongue<br>The tuneful anthem filled the morning air,<br>To sacred hymnings and elysian song<br>His music-breathing sehll the minstrel woke.<br>Devotion breathed aloud from every chord:<br>The voice of praise was heard in every tone,<br>And prayer and thanks to Him, the Eternal One,<br>To Him, that with bright inspiration touched<br>The high and gifted lyre of heavenly song,<br>And warmed the soul with new vitality.<br>A stirring energy through Nature breathed:<br>The voice of adoration from her broke,<br>Swelling aloud in every breeze, and heard<br>Long in the sullen waterfall, what time<br>Soft Spring or hoary Autumn threw on earth<br>Its bloom or blighting; when the summer smiled;<br>Or winter o'er the year's sepulcher mourned.<br>The Deity was there; a nameless spirit<br>Moved in the breasts of men to do him homage;<br>And when the morning smiled, or evening pale<br>Hung weeping o'er the melancholy urn,<br>They came beneath the broad, o'erarching trees,<br>And in their tremulous shadow worshipped oft,<br>Where pale the vine clung round their simple altars,<br>And gray moss mantling hung. Above was heard<br>The melody of winds, breathed out as the green trees<br>Bowed to their quivering touch in living beauty;<br>And birds sang forth their cheerful hymns. Below,<br>The bright and widely wandering rivulet<br>Struggled and gushed amongst the tangled roots<br>That choked its reedy fountain, and dark rocks<br>Worn smooth by the constant current. Even there<br>The listless wave, that stole with mellow voice<br>Where reeds grew rank on the rushy-fringed brink,<br>And the green sedge bent to the wandering wind,<br>Sang with a cheerful song of sweet tranquillity.<br>Men felt the heavenly influence; and it stole<br>Like balm into their hearts, till all was peace:<br>And even the air they breathed, the light they saw,<br>Became religion; for the ethereal spirit<br>That to soft music wakes the chords of feeling,<br>And mellows everything to beauty, moved<br>With cheering energy within their breasts<br>And made all holy there, for all was love.<br>The morning stars, that sweetly sang together;<br>The moon, that hung at night in the mid-sky:<br>Dayspring and eventide; and all the fair<br>And beautiful forms of nature, had a voice<br>Of eloquent worship. Ocean, with its tides<br>Selling and deep, where low the infant storm<br>Hung on his dun, dark cloud, and heavily beat<br>The pulses of the sea, sent forth a voice<br>Of awful adoration to the spirit<br>That, wrapt in darkness, moved upon its face.<br>And when the bow of evening arched the east,<br>Or, in the moonlight pale, the curling wave<br>Kissed with a sweet embrace the sea-worn beach,<br>And soft the song of winds came o'er the waters,<br>The mingled melody of wind and wave<br>Touched like a heavenly anthem on the ear;<br>For it arose a tuneful hymn of worship.<br>And have our hearts grown cold? Are there on earth<br>No pure reflections caught from heavnly light?<br>Have our mute lips no hymn, our souls no song?<br>Let him thatin the summer-day of youth<br>Keeps pure the holy fount of youthful feeling,<br>And him that in the nightfall of his years<br>Lies down in his last sleep, and shuts in peace<br>His dim, pale eyes on life's short wayfaring,<br>Praise Him that rules the destiny of man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Wadsworth+Longfellow">Henry Wadsworth Longfellow</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=409666" data-title="Thanksgiving de Henry Wadsworth Longfellow" data-description="When first in ancient time, from Jubal's tongue
The tuneful anthem filled the morning air,
To sacred hymnings and elysian song
His music-breathing sehll the minstrel woke.
Devotion breathed aloud from every chord:
The voice of praise was heard in ..."></div>
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