Even as I watched the daylight how it sped <br />From noon till eve, and saw the light wind pass <br />In long pale waves across the flashing grass, <br />And heard through all my dreams, wherever led, <br />The thin cicada singing overhead, <br />I felt what joyance all this nature has, <br />And saw myself made clear as in a glass, <br />How that my soul was for the most part dead. <br /> <br />Oh, light, I cried, and, heaven, with all your blue, <br />Oh, earth, with all your sunny fruitfulness, <br />And ye, tall lillies, of the wind-vexed field, <br />What power and beauty life indeed might yield, <br />Could we but cast away its conscious stress, <br />Simple of heart, becoming even as you.<br /><br />Archibald Lampman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-old-lesson-from-the-fields/
