THE MORNING SONG OF THE MOUND BUILDERS.

Once more do we turn on thy face our glad eyes,

Great god of the Summer! and sing,

With the lark and the linnet we gladly arise

To welcome the smile of our King.

Our hearts are made glad when we feel thee advance

On thy mission of mercy and might,

For we know that the stroke of thy conquering lance,

Has shattered the bulwarks of night.

We look on thy face, and our doubts are dispelled

By the glance of thy mellowing eye;

For we feel that the rains by our Master are held,

And we fear not to do or to die.

We felt thy embrace, many long weary years,

Yet the scales were not torn from our eyes;

We sought for a father, with prayers and with tears

Till we woke with a welcome surprise.

And beheld from thy face, all the fatherhood shine,

And thy great glowing heart all ablaze

With the love, that had lingered and grown more divine,

In the yearn of our wandering days.

How we leaped to thy arms, when we saw them extend!

How we drank of thy fervent embrace!

With its love like thyself, glowing on without end,

In the gold of thy deified face.

For our eyes were unscaled, and our hearts were unsealed;

We were melted to tears at the thought,

Of the blessings so near, that had stood unrevealed,

Of the Providence waiting unsought.

How could we have lost the firm grasp of thy hand,

With its daily improvise of love,

With its unsounded depths, like the count of the sand,

As an index, to point us above?

And now hover o'er us, great god of the day!

Let us never escape from thy wing,

For ever and ever, drive famine away,

Give wealth to our Summer and Spring.

Give us harvests of fruit, give us Winters of rest —

Let thy Provident hand never cease;

Grant the aged a home, on thy great shining breast,

When their labors shall purchase release.

Be more than we ask, give us more than our prayer —

All our wants, let thy wisdom disclose,

Till our souls shall be ripe with thy fostering care,

And made white for our future repose.