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,