The Secret
“OH what saw you, gathering flowers so early this May morn?”
“I saw a shining blackbird loud whistling on a thorn;
I saw the mottled plover from the swamp-edge fly away;
I heard the blithe song-sparrows who welcomed the bright day;
I heard the curlew calling, oh, sweet, so sweet and far!
I saw the white gull twinkling in the blue sky like a star.”
“And is the blackbird whistling yet, and does the curlew call,
And should I find your rapture if I saw and heard it all?
Life seems to me so hard to bear, perplexed with change and loss,
Heavy with pain, and weary still with care’s perpetual cross,
Why should the white gull’s twinkling wings, half lost amid the blue,
Bring any joy? Yet care and pain weigh just as much on you,
And you come back and look at me with such joy-beaming eyes
An angel might have been your guide through fields of Paradise!
What is the secret Nature keeps to whisper in your ear
That sends the swift blood pulsing warm with such immortal cheer,
And makes your eyes shine like the morn, and rings sweet in your voice,
Like some clear, distant trumpet sound that bids the world rejoice?”
“Her secret? Nay, she speaks to me no word you might not hear.
Her voice is ever ready and her meaning ever clear:
But I love her with such passion that her lightest gesture seems
Divinely beautiful —she fills my life with golden dreams.
I tremble in her presence, to her every touch and tone;
I answer to her whisper —love has to worship grown.
She turns her solemn face to me, and lays within my hand
The key that puts her endless wealth for aye at my command;
And so, because I worship her, her benedictions rest
Upon me, and she folds me safe and warm upon her breast,
And in her sweet and awful eyes I gaze till I forget
The troubles that perplex our days, the tumult and the fret.
Oh, would you learn the word of power that lifts, all care above,
The sad soul up to Nature’s heart? I answer, It is Love!”
