Break from thy body’s grasp, thy spirit’s trance;
Give to thy soul air, thy faculties expanse;
Love, joy, e’en sorrow—yield thyself to all!
They make thy freedom, groveller, not thy thrall,
Knock off the shackles which thy spirit bind
To dust and sense, and set at large the mind;
Then move in sympathy with God’s great whole;
And be, like man at first, A Living Soul!
A Clump of Daisies.
Ye daisies gay,