AH, moment not to be purchased, <br />Not to be won by prayer, <br />Not by toil to be conquered, <br />But given, lest one despair, <br />By the Gods in wayward kindness, <br />Stay—thou art all too fair! <br />Hour of the dancing measures, <br />Sylph of the dew and rainbow, <br />Let us clutch thy shining hair! <br /> <br />For the mist is blown from the mind, <br />For the impotent yearning is over, <br />And the wings of the thoughts have power: <br />In the warmth and the glow creative <br />Existence mellows and ripens, <br />And a crowd of swift surprises <br />Sweetens the fortunate hour; <br />Till a shudder of rapture loosens <br />The tears that hang on the eyelids <br />Like a breeze-suspended shower, <br />With a sense of heavenly freshness <br />Blown from beyond the sunshine, <br />And the blood, like the sap of the roses, <br />Breaks into bud and flower. <br /> <br />’T is the Sunshine of the Gods, <br />The sudden light that quickens, <br />Unites the nimble forces, <br />And yokes the shy expression <br />To the thoughts that waited long,— <br />Waiting and wooing vainly: <br />But now they meet like lovers <br />In the time of willing increase, <br />Each warming each, and giving <br />The kiss that maketh strong: <br />And the mind feels fairest May-time <br />In the marriage of its passions, <br />For Thought is one with Speech, <br />In the Sunshine of the Gods, <br />And Speech is one with Song! <br /> <br />Then a rhythmic pulse makes order <br />In the troops of wandering fancies: <br />Held in soft subordination, <br />Lo! they follow, lead, or fly. <br />The fields of their feet are endless, <br />And the heights and the deeps are open <br />To the glance of the equal sky; <br />And the Masters sit no longer <br />In inaccessible distance, <br />But give to the haughtiest question, <br />Smiling, a sweet reply.<br /><br />James Bayard Taylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/from-the-sunshine-of-the-gods/
