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[X. Earth hath her meadows green, her brooklets bright]
Earth hath her meadows green, her brooklets bright;
She hath a million flowers which bloom aloft,
O'ershade her peerless glances the clouds soft,
And dances on her sward the capering light.
She hath a million flowers which bloom aloft,
O'ershade her peerless glances the clouds soft,
And dances on her sward the capering light.
She hath a full glad day, a solemn night,
And showers, and trees, and waterfallings oft.
Meekly I love her, and in her delight;
I am as one who ministers in rite.
And showers, and trees, and waterfallings oft.
Meekly I love her, and in her delight;
I am as one who ministers in rite.
But so much soul hast thou within thy form,
Than luscious summer days thou art the more,
And far within thee there is that more warm
Than luscious summer days thou art the more,
And far within thee there is that more warm
Than ever sunlight to the wild flowers bore,
Thou great glad gentleness, and sweetly clear,
Thou who art mine to love and to revere.
Thou great glad gentleness, and sweetly clear,
Thou who art mine to love and to revere.
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