A yellow raft sails up the bluest stream
And cherry-blossoms cloud the shore with pink;
The sky grows clearer with a curious gleam
And boys come playing to the river brink.

A grayish gull descends to preen and prink.
Far off, a singing plowman drives his team
A yellow raft sails up the bluest stream
And cherry-blossoms cloud the shore with pink. . .

Oh, to be there; far from this tangled scheme
Of strident days and nights that flare and sink.
Beauty shall lift us with a colored dream;
And, as we muse, too rapt and wise to think,
A yellow raft sails up the bluest stream
And cherry-blossoms cloud the shore with pink.