There are sweet looks and tones through all the earth
That win my heart. Love-looks are in the lily’s bell
And violet’s eye, and love-tones on the winds
And waters. There are forms of grace which all
The while are gliding by, enrapturing
My vision. O, I can not guess how one
Can weary of the earth, when ev’ry year
To me it seems more and more beautiful;
When each succeeding spring the flowers wear
A fairer hue, and ev’ry autumn on