Tag Archive | william b tappan

To Winter


By William B. Tappan

Winter! there are among the race of men,
Strangers to thought who slander thee;
Thy frowns appal, thy smiles escape their ken,
Far lovelier the garb thou wear’st to me.

I love thy rocking storms to hear;
Thy blasts, that bid the aged mountains nod,
Thy winds are music to mine ear,
To me their murmuring is the voice of God.

Thou of the kindly charities!
‘Tis thine to thaw man’s heart–the frigid soul,
Sterner than frost, is melted, nor denies
Its aid to bid the tempest-tossed be whole.

Yea mother! thou art not austere;
Though frozen be thy aspect, bliss is thine
Unknown to fairer May.  Upon thy shrine
Ever is seen the grateful orphan’s tear.

Parent of treasures, thou!
Should I not love thee?  O, can aught compare
With thy dear fireside joys?–the tranquil brow,
The wife’s warm smile and children’s kiss are there.

The Moon

moon 1

By artist Carmen Hurt, oil painting, 2008, “Night of the Big Moon”

By William B. Tappan

Sweet orb of night! I saw thee rise
In cloudless lustre o’er the plain;
I saw thee climb the azure skies,
With radiant splendours in thy train:
I marked thy mildly pensive beam
At midnight’s still and hallowed hour;
I watched the fitful, lonely gleam
That played on yonder ivied tower.

Sweet orb of night! I often love
When day with all its cares is o’er,
To wander in the silent grove,
And there the Source of Light adore:
O then, how false all else appears,
While wrapt in awe thy course I view,
And see thee mount the starry spheres,
And tread the fields of heavenly blue!