Page:Reuben and other poems.pdf/46



My mind’s a temple. Come, sweep it clean. Out with you, low thoughts, Little thoughts and mean!

What’s the oblation Offer’d up to-day? “Joy—in the glory of A rosy leaf-spray!

“Crisp air, with rain-drops Wash’d clear and bright: Hosts of happy sunbeams, Deluges of light:

“Ripe leaves translucent Hung against the blue: Painted air and sunlight Palpitating thro’.”