Over the Ridge of Spring

Over the ridge of Spring I saw

The blossoms of the ancient haw,

Rounding the crest of morning hills

The sprightly golden daffodils.

Shall we ever have our fill of light

That breaks upon our jaundiced sight,

Of roses in supreme array

Bursting from the bounds of May

To flower in the cloistered heart

No living thing from man apart,

In fragrances the chaliced good

The earth brings forth in field and wood,

The presence of eternal life

Amid this world of constant strife,

The promise of new birth to be

By sanctioning Divinity.