_Spirits of the Trees._ Hark! the Eden trees are stirring, Soft and solemn in your hearing! Oak and linden, palm and fir, Tamarisk and juniper, Each still throbbing in vibration Since that crowning of creation When the God-breath spake abroad, _Let us make man like to God!_ And the pine stood quivering As the awful word went by, Like a vibrant music-string Stretched from mountain-peak to sky; And the platan did expand Slow and gradual, branch and head; And the cedar's strong black shade Fluttered brokenly and grand: Grove and wood were swept aslant In emotion jubilant. _Voice of the same, but softer._ Which divine impulsion cleaves In dim movements to the leaves Dropt and lifted, dropt and lifted, In the sunlight greenly sifted,-- In the sunlight and the moonlight Greenly sifted through the trees. Ever wave the Eden trees In the nightlight and the noonlight, With a ruffling of green branches Shaded off to resonances, Never stirred by rain or breeze. Fare ye well, farewell! The sylvan sounds, no longer audible, Expire at Eden's door. Each footstep of your treading Treads out some murmur which ye heard before. Farewell! the trees of Eden Ye shall hear nevermore. _River Spirits._ Hark! the flow of the four rivers-- Hark the flow! How the silence round you shivers, While our voices through it go, Cold and clear. _A softer Voice._ Think a little, while ye hear, Of the banks Where the willows and the deer Crowd in intermingled ranks, As if all would drink at once Where the living water runs!-- Of the fishes' golden edges Flashing in and out the sedges; Of the swans on silver thrones, Floating down the winding streams With impassive eyes turned shoreward And a chant of undertones,-- And the lotos leaning forward To help them into dreams! Fare ye well, farewell! The river-sounds, no longer audible, Expire at Eden's door. Each footstep of your treading Treads out some murmur which ye heard before. Farewell! the streams of Eden Ye shall hear nevermore.