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The rare-seen cuckoo winging,
Forever calling, calling to the sky;
The bluebells softly ringing,
And golden-headed daffodils that sigh
As the faithless breeze kisses them from sleep Passes on, and leaves them there to nod and weep True, all these he showed – most precious sight! And many others – but t’was false delight!
Hand through hand wandering,
I saw and wondered with such deep delight,
My grieving spirit had no time for pondering
On distress, for as the dawn to night
So beauty is to care.
We peeled the silver off the shining birches
And picked from fields aglare
With gold, and unlike the man who searches
For the wreath of men, and looks to them
To give, we in nature only sought
And she did give to us her costliest gem –
The gem of beauteous words, and power of thought.
Then suddenly the half-light
Came beside the dimpling stream.The soft breeze Was whirling the clear waters in its flight;
The speckles blue behind the crowding trees Changed all at once to gold –
Gold which verged at last to faintest mauve; Clouds passed and rolled,
Pearl-white before the sun and for him wove
A crown of clouds about his head. He went,
But though on cheating me his mind was bent He saw not that himself he cheated likewise –
As I .... For through myself I lost the prize.