Our Hoary Earth

Our hoary earth -is e'er at play
With bright rays of the sun,
A-cooing, wooing all the day,
. And kissing while their course they run.
On Danube river's shining face,
On hill and vale, on window pane,
On churchspires of the market place,
Their burning kisses showeth plain.
At dawn, at eve, e'er full of cheer,
The sun is full of mirthful glee,
As if the grave which riseth here, —
My Ethel's tomb, — he would not see.