Page:Poems, Alan Seeger, 1916.djvu/92

 Draped in the rainbow on the summer hills,

Hidden in sea-mist down the hot coast-line,

Couched on the clouds that fiery sunset fills,

Blessed, remote, impersonal, divine;

The gold all color and grace are folded o'er,

The warmth all beauty and tenderness embower,—

Thou quiverest at Nature's perfumed core,

The pistil of a myriad-petalled flower.

Round thee revolves, inimitably wide,

The world's desire, as stars around their pole.

Round thee all earthly loveliness beside

Is but the radiate, infinite aureole.

Thou art the poem on the cosmic page—

In rubric written on its golden ground—

That Nature paints her flowers and foliage

And rich-illumined commentary round.

Thou art the rose that the world's smiles and tears

Hover about like butterflies and bees.

Thou art the theme the music of the spheres

Echoes in endless, variant harmonies.

Thou art the idol in the altar-niche

Faced by Love's congregated worshippers,

Thou art the holy sacrament round which

The vast cathedral is the universe.

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