Content

THEY may be worlds, but let me for to-night
Gaze on the beauty of yon liquid blue,
Studded with gems whose iridescent light
Trembles the soft air through.

True, it were wise to name each separate part
That helps to form this delicate rich rose;
But let me, foolishly, look in its heart,
And mark how fair it glows.

Books tell of wondrous secrets buried deep,
Written upon the rocks, — and it may be;
The grass is green; let all beneath it sleep, —
The new green world for me!

I do not care to hear the ancient tale
Of magi, prophets, patriarchs of old;
A sweeter story doth this flowery vale,
Low-tinkling stream, and purple air unfold.

Let me a little while forget my years,
See with a child’s eyes for a little while;
Let me forget that there be death or tears
In Nature’s golden smile.