NATURE’S HEART
I search for Nature’s heart beneath her dome,
All free from jarring sounds;
Out there my hungry spirit seeks a home,
Out there, my feasting grounds.
I love the giant oak, the poplar and the pine,
Aye, balmful to my soul;
I greet my feathered friends, and they combine
To make me captive whole.
I find no ghoul-like demon of the wood,
Nor siren from the sea;
A spirit high begets my ardent mood,
But yields not me the key.
And dreaming in the vale, or on a mountain height,
Awed by the great abyss,
My soul doth plead an everlasting right,
“The secret of all this?”
Both wild and winning are Mother Nature’s ways,
Many, varied, one;
In all she sings my soul her mystic lays,
From flower to rolling sun.
But oh to understand the purpose of her heart,
Her princely, hidden life;
Just what or who unfolds the vital part,
Despite dark death and strife.
O Faunus tell—return to earth and speak
The word that satisfies;
Or haughty mountain give, or valley meek,
The answer to my cries.
The gods are silent all! But drink may I
Of Nature’s founts o’er flowing;
I feel her throbs of heart in earth and sky,
And loving leads to knowing.
Henceforth, of all the wines of gods and men,
To me give Nature’s nectar;
Of all the feeble songs of tongue and pen
From every dull director—
Oh give me Nature’s rich and ripest lore,
Her palaces and poses;
Her peaceful ways and rest, her fullest store
Of pure Pierian roses.
Ah, this I know—’tis all I need to know—
The great Mother has her plan;
With God she labors long, at last to show
Her perfect child and man.