Frederick George Scott



Among the Spruces

’Tis sweet, O God, to steal away,
    Before the morning sun is high,
Upon some frosty winter’s day,
    When not a cloud is on the sky,
And all the world is white below,
Knee-deep with freshly-fallen snow,—

To steal into the silent woods
    Before the trees are quite awake,
And watch them in their snowy hoods
    A rough-and-ready toilet make,

When in the little breezes creep
And rouse them gently from their sleep.

’Tis sweet, O God, to kneel among
    The snow-bent trees, and lift the mind
Above the boughs where birds have sung,

    Above the pathways of the wind,
Into the very heart of space,—
To where the angels see Thy face.

For while my spirit mounts in prayer,
    So keen becomes its mystic sight,

That through the sunshine in the air
    I see a new and heavenly light,
And all the bowed woods seem to be
Acknowledging the Trinity. [Page 50]