Nature, to him no message dost thou bear <br />Who in thy beauty findeth not the power <br />To gird himself more strongly for the hour <br />Of night and darkness. Oh, what colours rare <br />The woods, the valleys, and the mountains wear <br />To him who knows thy secret, and, in shower, <br />And fog, and ice-cloud, hath a secret bower <br />Where he may rest until the heavens are fair! <br />Not with the rest of slumber, but the trance <br />Of onward movement steady and serene, <br />Where oft, in struggle and in contest keen, <br />His eyes will opened be, and all the dance <br />Of life break on him, and a wide expanse <br />Roll upward through the void, sunny and green.<br /><br />George MacDonald<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/nature-a-moral-power/
