Go gather the down which floats on the wind,
And the leaves from ev’ry tree;
Can ye find a couch for the troubled mind?
Can ye find a rest for me?
Go gather the honey-dew from the leaf,
And the labor sweet of the bee;
Can ye ‘suage the bitter tongue of grief?
Give a drop of sweet to me?
Let the cold wind blow through the midnight rain,
And the breeze flutter over the sea;
Can it breathe one chill on a burning brain?
Can it cool my brain for me?
Let the gale which springs in the morning cloud,
Give life to all that be;
Can it quicken again my murdered mind?
Give back my mind to me?
Let the spring-time shine, with its sunny hours,
And the merry birds all in glee;
Can ye gather amidst ten thousand flowers,
One bud that blooms for me?
Atonement
Ah! there is a bed that was hewn in stone,
Where lie lay that was nail’d to the tree!
‘Twas there my Lord lay all alone,
And there’s the rest for me.
And there was a dew all silvery bright,
It fell on plain and Ice;
They gathered it fresh at the morning light,
And sweet’s its taste to me.
And there was a rushing mighty wind,
It blew o’er a bloody sea,
It breathes a calm for my troubled mind,
A Comforter for me.
And there was a gale when the Day-star rose;
Its shining clear I see;
My mind, in his beams, revives and glows,
And all is life with me.
And there was a flower, which sprung from the tomb.
When the days had number’d three;
Upon my heart that flower shall bloom,
Eternal joy for me.
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