Over the ridge of Spring I saw The blossoms of the ancient haw, Rounding the crest of morning hills The sprightly golden daffodils.
Shall we ever have our fill of light That breaks upon our jaundiced sight, Of roses in supreme array Bursting from the bounds of May
To flower in the cloistered heart No living thing from man apart, In fragrances the chaliced good The earth brings forth in field and wood,
The presence of eternal life Amid this world of constant strife, The promise of new birth to be By sanctioning Divinity.
Poems Undated (1727)
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