I love the warm bare earth and all
That works and dreams thereon:
I love the seasons yet to fall:
I love the ages gone,
The valleys with the sheeted grain,
The river's smiling might,
The merry wind, the rustling rain,
The vastness of the night.
I love the morning's flame, the steep
Where down the vapour clings:
I love the clouds that float and sleep,
And every bird that sings.
I love the purple shower that pours
On far-off fields at even:
I love the pine-wood dusk whose floors
Are like the courts of heaven.
I love the heaven's azure span,
The grass beneath my feet:
I love the face of every man
Whose thought is swift and sweet.
I let the wrangling world go by,
And like an idle breath
Its echoes and its phantoms fly:
I care no jot for death.
Time like a Titan bright and strong
Spreads one enchanted gleam:
Each hour is but a fluted song,
And life a lofty dream.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.