FROM the cool and dark-lipped furrows <br />Breathes a dim delight <br />Through the woodland's purple plumage <br />To the diamond night. <br />Aureoles of joy encircle <br />Every blade of grass <br />Where the dew-fed creatures silent <br />And enraptured pass. <br />And the restless ploughman pauses, <br />Turns and, wondering, <br />Deep beneath his rustic habit <br />Finds himself a king; <br />For a fiery moment looking <br />With the eyes of God <br />Over fields a slave at morning <br />Bowed him to the sod. <br />Blind and dense with revelation <br />Every moment flies, <br />And unto the Mighty Mother, <br />Gay, eternal, rise <br />All the hopes we hold, the gladness, <br />Dreams of things to be. <br />One of all thy generations, <br />Mother, hails to thee. <br />Hail, and hail, and hail for ever, <br />Though I turn again <br />From thy joy unto the human <br />Vestiture of pain. <br />I, thy child who went forth radiant <br />In the golden prime, <br />Find thee still the mother-hearted <br />Through my night in time; <br />Find in thee the old enchantment <br />There behind the veil <br />Where the gods, my brothers, linger. <br />Hail, forever, hail!<br /><br />George William Russell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-earth-breath/
