 | Songs of Doubt and Dream (Poems) |  |
XII.—Environment.
This earth, where so mysteriously we came,
Girds us with kinships: in robust oaks dwell
Our fortitudes; the willow and fern too well
Our foolish frailty or pliancy proclaim;
The dawns are our pure deeds; the erratic flame
Of lightning flares our passions; the grave spell
Of moonlight speaks our sorrow—and scarce we tell
Our pictured lives from their terrestrial frame.
Girds us with kinships: in robust oaks dwell
Our fortitudes; the willow and fern too well
Our foolish frailty or pliancy proclaim;
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Of lightning flares our passions; the grave spell
Of moonlight speaks our sorrow—and scarce we tell
Our pictured lives from their terrestrial frame.
Wherefore, the closlier that we lean to look
On those material and yet airy ties
Which bind us to this orb through fated years,
We almost feel as if great Nature took
Our joys to make her sunshine with, our sighs
To weave her winds, and for her rains our tears!
On those material and yet airy ties
Which bind us to this orb through fated years,
We almost feel as if great Nature took
Our joys to make her sunshine with, our sighs
To weave her winds, and for her rains our tears!
| Songs of Doubt and Dream (Poems) | |