Earth, too Lovely
My silver birch, white-velvet, far too strong
Your loveliness, that hides away from me
The dryad that I otherwise might see,
Bird of the dawn, too near, your liquid song
That does not to the unseen choir belong
Has drowned some seraph's morning melody!
Your autumn beaker, earth, your sparkling sea
Have done an older wine of heaven wrong.
O golden cup of earth, too brightly filled,
Can any drink you deeply, and still know
How constellations in their courses sing,
How our immediate dead about us go? —
Earth, were our senses for a moment stilled,
This very room were chamber of a King!
Your loveliness, that hides away from me
The dryad that I otherwise might see,
Bird of the dawn, too near, your liquid song
That does not to the unseen choir belong
Has drowned some seraph's morning melody!
Your autumn beaker, earth, your sparkling sea
Have done an older wine of heaven wrong.
O golden cup of earth, too brightly filled,
Can any drink you deeply, and still know
How constellations in their courses sing,
How our immediate dead about us go? —
Earth, were our senses for a moment stilled,
This very room were chamber of a King!
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