Not of the senses, but of the inward soul.
The restful day, the sunny leaf and wind,
The path of blue like windows shining down,
Do give to life a beauty and a calm
And a sweet sadness, that this mighty world
And all its myriad triumphs cannot give.
O let me live with Nature at her door,
And taste her home-brewed pleasures, simple, glad,—
The beauty of the day, the splendor of the night,—
Not in the great palace halls, great cloister domes,