What dreams I dreamt in youth's exuberance, And truths that every child could understand I knew and held a simple reverence, That all this earth is consecrated land.
Flowers grave and thoughtful in their turn And meditative trees in forests' dense, Retreats among the humble moss and fern Mid thought-filled days and skies of innocence
Dotted the flowing valleys of my youth, The secret dells where rivulets ran clear, Sunlight and the gleam of greater truth That beckoned at the edge of soul's frontier.
I found the treasured jewels among the grass Flitting winged joy my heart could break, Denser woods and fragrances that pass And sweetly call the infant-soul to wake.
What boon of God might now I boldly ask That He has not foreseen and granted me When I was unaware, unknown the task Of life, to find our own divinity.
Poems Undated (1727)
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