SPRAYS FROM THE HEART'S FOUNTAINS
O, THIS is a world of glorious things ;
And I'm sure I know not why,
But there's never a gleam the sunlight flings,
Or a flash in the open sky,
But giveth my spirit an angel's wings,
And biddeth it soar on high.
The flowers come out to the laughing light.
And their fragrance widely fling —
The shrubs with their morning gems are bright,
And the notes of the wild birds ring
As if thay had caught from the skies last night.
The songs that the angels sing.
The proud ship skims o'er the sleeping lake, With her banners streaming fair ;
And the music that children's voices make, Is abroad on the ringing air,
That seems as its burdened chords must break, With the gladness everywhere.
And O, methinks that around me stray Bright spirits from worlds unknown,
Who over the earth, with the breaking day, Have their garlands of beauty thrown,
And the peerless gems from their own array, On the gleaming branches strown.
Tis a blest, bright world, and I know not why
They have called it a vale of woes.
For scarce can the weariest sleeper's eye
To its beauties half unclose. Ere his soul is tuned to an anthem high
And his heart with joy o'erflows.
'Tis a world of light and life and love.
Wherever the foot may stray, In the thronged school-yard, or the distant grove,
Where the chainless waters play.
A halo that claimeth its birth above,
Is over our blissful way.
By the wings of the angels, hour by hour,
Must the vaulted skies be riven.
For the gifts they bear are a ceaseless shower;
And though we have no vision given Of the world unseen, there can scarce be more
Than a step 'twixt us and heaven.
by American author and teacher Harriett Ellen Grannis Arey who was born on April 14, 1819 in
Cavendish, Vermont
Source: Household Songs and other poems, published in 1855
Source says not in copyright
https://archive.org/details/householdsongsot01arey/page/48/mode/1up?view=theater
Image via Wikimedia Commons, public domain
SPRAYS FROM THE HEART'S FOUNTAINS
O, THIS is a world of glorious things ;
And I'm sure I know not why,
But there's never a gleam the sunlight flings,
Or a flash in the open sky,
But giveth my spirit an angel's wings,
And biddeth it soar on high.
The flowers come out to the laughing light.
And their fragrance widely fling —
The shrubs with their morning gems are bright,
And the notes of the wild birds ring
As if thay had caught from the skies last night.
The songs that the angels sing.
The proud ship skims o'er the sleeping lake, With her banners streaming fair ;
And the music that children's voices make, Is abroad on the ringing air,
That seems as its burdened chords must break, With the gladness everywhere.
And O, methinks that around me stray Bright spirits from worlds unknown,
Who over the earth, with the breaking day, Have their garlands of beauty thrown,
And the peerless gems from their own array, On the gleaming branches strown.
Tis a blest, bright world, and I know not why
They have called it a vale of woes.
For scarce can the weariest sleeper's eye
To its beauties half unclose. Ere his soul is tuned to an anthem high
And his heart with joy o'erflows.
'Tis a world of light and life and love.
Wherever the foot may stray, In the thronged school-yard, or the distant grove,
Where the chainless waters play.
A halo that claimeth its birth above,
Is over our blissful way.
By the wings of the angels, hour by hour,
Must the vaulted skies be riven.
For the gifts they bear are a ceaseless shower;
And though we have no vision given Of the world unseen, there can scarce be more
Than a step 'twixt us and heaven.
by American author and teacher Harriett Ellen Grannis Arey who was born on April 14, 1819 in
Cavendish, Vermont
Source: Household Songs and other poems, published in 1855
Source says not in copyright
https://archive.org/details/householdsongsot01arey/page/48/mode/1up?view=theater
Image via Wikimedia Commons, public domain
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