All unwise in thought or duty—

Still our wisdom envies you:

We who lack the living beauty

Half our secret knowledge rue.

Thought nor fear in you nor dreaming

Veil the light with mist about;

Joy, as through a crystal gleaming,

Flashes from the gay heart out.

Pain and penitence forsaking,

Hearts like cloisters dim and grey,

By your laughter lured, awaking

Join with you the dance of day.

IN THE WOMB

Still rests the heavy share on the dark soil:

Upon the black mould thick the dew-damp lies:

The horse waits patient: from his lowly toil

The ploughboy to the morning lifts his eyes.

The unbudding hedgerows dark against day's fires

Glitter with gold-lit crystals: on the rim

Over the unregarding city's spires

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