 | The Last Crusade and Other Poems |  |
141
[My spirit is too wide awake]
My spirit is too wide awake
To taste its joy; I scarcely feel
The molten silver dancing o'er the lake,
The quick pulse of the water-wheel.
To taste its joy; I scarcely feel
The molten silver dancing o'er the lake,
The quick pulse of the water-wheel.
For thoughts come thicker than the leaves
That burst upon a million sprays;
And love, like yonder sun,
Dazzles with all its eager rays
The world of loveliness it weaves,
Glancing o'er all things ere the heart be won.
That burst upon a million sprays;
And love, like yonder sun,
Dazzles with all its eager rays
The world of loveliness it weaves,
Glancing o'er all things ere the heart be won.
| The Last Crusade and Other Poems | |