What is divinity if it can
Only in silent shadows and in dreams?
Shall she not find in comforts of the sun,
In pungent fruit and bright, green wings, or
In any balm or beauty of the earth,
Things to be cherished like the thought of heaven?
Divinity must live within herself:
Passions of rain, or moods in falling snow;
Grievings in loneliness, or
Elations when the forest blooms;
Emotions on wet roads on autumn nights;
All pleasures and all pains,
The bough of summer and the winter branch,
These are the measures destined for her soul.
