What say
Bright leaves of day,
By the laughing wind caressed?

“All young things
Should dance in the sun:
There joy sings
To every one.”

What say
Sweet flowers of day,
That strive not, yet are blest?

“All young things
Should live in the sun:
There joy sings
To every one.”

What say
At shut of day,
Two bird-calls from the west?

“All young things
Should love in the sun:
There joy sings
To every one.”