I have burgeoned once, as Lilies do,
And given forth delightful fragrance.
In the shadow of Spring’s cloudy sky,
Did I live, if only for a moment; my
Lungs filled with air of ages, my eyes
Seeing glory of Man, the swelling of
Heavens, the golden rain! O, to live for
A second only and then to fall and scatter,
I would spare it no moment to think of
Such offer; divine is the world, when eyes
Of he are cheerfully observing every dewdrop,
And the flap of butterflies wings on the soft wind.
Divine!
Divine the rivers that, flowing,
Animate the forests, mirroring the beauty
And increasing it, thousandfold; still, more divine
Is the swelling of the sky in Spring, when heat
And humid winds in violet dusk, embraced, bring
Forth rain, which, softly caressing the leaves and
Petals of forest’s menagerie, glistens as gold in
Sun’s light! O, what beauties are made manifest, if he,
Who blindly wanders, adjourned with worry and
Fear, looks upon the world with child’s eyes! Divine!
The peaks and prairies, sea-waves and dunes of desert
Too, each beautiful and, God-revealing, perfected in
The dying light of the day!