Nature Transitory--the Soul Immortal.
1 See lovely nature raise her head,
In various graces dressed;
Her lucid robe by ocean spread,
Her verdant, flowery vest.
2 How glorious are those orbs of light,
In all their bright array,
That gem the ebon brow of night,
Or pour the blaze of day!
3 One gem of purest ray, divine,
Alone disclaims her power;
Still brighter shall its glories shine,
When hers are seen no more.
4 Her pageants pass, nor leave a trace
The soul no change shall fear;
The God of nature and of grace
Has stamped his image there.