Beautiful earth of stars and streams,
Why should men fear what man can do?
He cannot rob us of our dreams,
Born, as the rose is born, of you,
That even in the darkest hours
Feeds with soft fire and secret dew
The tender lives of hidden flowers.

Strange fount of unexhausted joy,
Strange hills of strength wherein abides
Faith that no sorrow can destroy,
Beauty that ever gleams and glides,
With whispered cabalistic words,
The huge omnipotence of tides,
The happy confidence of birds.

Brave messages of meadows green,
And gospels of unfathomed blue;
But to have heard, but to have seen —
I ask no more, kind earth, of you;
Enough for faith that I was born,
And lived the magic seasons through,
And watched the marvel of the morn.

The hallowed rising of the moon
Once to behold, to have known the sea —
That benediction and that boon
Earth wonderfully gave to me.
O cup of brimming miracle!
How golden it has been — to be!
Yea! and earth gave me Love as well.