What endures Beauty like the coming dawn ?
The Herald of Heaven’s lamp for bright day,
Gilded lustre to the Soil Nature spawned ,
The dawning of Spring and the Blossoms of May.
The Perfume of the fields on the warm air,
With Butterflies dancing upon nearby Green ,
The Soul of Nature in these fruits to share,
The Ideal of Creation gladly seen.
The late Moon with all silken drapery laid,
Cover the Trees and Moor with Spectral light ,
To clarity the Earth by Brook and Glade,
Where Desolation and Bliss so evenly unite .
But this Beauty is Eternal and will not wane,
Your Bloom will Wilt;
But in the Heart remain.