When all the world has gone awry, <br />And I myself least favour find <br />With my own self, and but to die <br />And leave the whole sad coil behind, <br />Seems but the one and only way; <br />Should I but hear some water falling <br />Through woodland veils in early May, <br />And small bird unto small bird calling-- <br />O then my heart is glad as they. <br /> <br />Lifted my load of cares, and fled <br />My ghosts of weakness and despair, <br />And, unafraid, I raise my head <br />And Life to do its utmost dare; <br />Then if in its accustomed place <br />One flower I should chance find blowing, <br />With lovely resurrected face <br />From Autumn's rust and Winter's snowing-- <br />I laugh to think of my disgrace. <br /> <br />A simple brook, a simple flower, <br />A simple wood in green array,-- <br />What, Nature, thy mysterious power <br />To bind and heal our mortal clay? <br />What mystic surgery is thine, <br />Whose eyes of us seem all unheeding, <br />That even so sad a heart as mine <br />Laughs at the wounds that late were bleeding?-- <br />Yea! sadder hearts, O Power Divine. <br /> <br />I think we are not otherwise <br />Than all the children of thy knee; <br />For so each furred and winged one flies, <br />Wounded, to lay its heart on thee; <br />And, strangely nearer to thy breast, <br />Knows, and yet knows not, of thy healing, <br />Asking but there awhile to rest, <br />With wisdom beyond our revealing-- <br />Knows and yet knows not, and is blest.<br /><br />Richard Le Gallienne<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/nature-the-healer/
