| |
| AH, moment not to be purchased, | |
| Not to be won by prayer, | |
| Not by toil to be conquered, | |
| But given, lest one despair, | |
| By the Gods in wayward kindness, | 5 |
| Stay—thou art all too fair! | |
| Hour of the dancing measures, | |
| Sylph of the dew and rainbow, | |
| Let us clutch thy shining hair! | |
| |
| For the mist is blown from the mind, | 10 |
| For the impotent yearning is over, | |
| And the wings of the thoughts have power: | |
| In the warmth and the glow creative | |
| Existence mellows and ripens, | |
| And a crowd of swift surprises | 15 |
| Sweetens the fortunate hour; | |
| Till a shudder of rapture loosens | |
| The tears that hang on the eyelids | |
| Like a breeze-suspended shower, | |
| With a sense of heavenly freshness | 20 |
| Blown from beyond the sunshine, | |
| And the blood, like the sap of the roses, | |
| Breaks into bud and flower. | |
| |
| ’T is the Sunshine of the Gods, | |
| The sudden light that quickens, | 25 |
| Unites the nimble forces, | |
| And yokes the shy expression | |
| To the thoughts that waited long,— | |
| Waiting and wooing vainly: | |
| But now they meet like lovers | 30 |
| In the time of willing increase, | |
| Each warming each, and giving | |
| The kiss that maketh strong: | |
| And the mind feels fairest May-time | |
| In the marriage of its passions, | 35 |
| For Thought is one with Speech, | |
| In the Sunshine of the Gods, | |
| And Speech is one with Song! | |
| |
| Then a rhythmic pulse makes order | |
| In the troops of wandering fancies: | 40 |
| Held in soft subordination, | |
| Lo! they follow, lead, or fly. | |
| The fields of their feet are endless, | |
| And the heights and the deeps are open | |
| To the glance of the equal sky; | 45 |
| And the Masters sit no longer | |
| In inaccessible distance, | |
| But give to the haughtiest question, | |
| Smiling, a sweet reply. | |
| |
