Wonderment

Then a wind blew;   And he who had forgot he moved   Lonely amid the green and silver morning weather,   Suddenly grew   Aware of clouds and

Gleaming and white and shafted, shaken together   And blown to music by the ruffling breeze.     Like flush of wings   The moment passed: he stood   Dazzled with blossom in the swaying wood;

Then he remembered how, through all swift things,   This mortal scene stands built of memories,—   Shaped by the wise   Who gazed in breathing wonderment,   And left us their brave

To light the ways they went.