And tell me thy heart,
Is it sad, is it light,
Is it pulsing with fears
Which scorch it and wither,
Or joys that up-well
In a girdle of green?
IV
"O breather of words
And poet of life,
I tremble with joy,
And tell me thy heart,
Is it sad, is it light,
Is it pulsing with fears
Which scorch it and wither,
Or joys that up-well
In a girdle of green?
IV
"O breather of words
And poet of life,
I tremble with joy,