Would I could hear cool water running seaward,
Or sigh of wind at daybreak sweeping leeward,
Through purple pines whose happy boughs are bending.
O Earth, dear Mother, as my spirit passes,
Make thou sweet fetters of thy flowers and grasses,
To bind it surely, lest it wander lonely
In some far sphere where never wild bird singeth,
Where never leaf at breath of Summer springeth,
For thou indeed art Heaven, O Earth, thou only!