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Felicia Dorothea Hemans - The Forest Sanctuary - Part I.
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XCII. 
    Now sport, for thou are free—the bright birds chasing,
    Whose wings waft star-like gleams from tree to tree;
    Or with the fawn, thy swift wood-playmate racing,
    Sport on, my joyous child! for thou art free!
    Yes, on that day I took thee to my heart,
    And inly vow`d, for thee a better part
    To choose; that so thy sunny bursts of glee
    Should wake no more dim thoughts of far-seen woe,
But, gladdening fearless eyes, flow on—as now they flow.

XCIII. 
    Thou hast a rich world round thee:—Mighty shades
    Weaving their gorgeous tracery o`er thy head,
    With the light melting through their high arcades,
    As through a pillar`d cloister`s: but the dead
    Sleep not beneath; nor doth the sunbeam pass
    To marble shrines through rainbow-tinted glass;
    Yet thou, by fount and forest-murmur led
    To worship, thou art blest!—to thee is shown
Earth in her holy pomp, deck`d for her God alone.
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