Thou alightest unawares on the grain-filled barn of the humble farmer, awakening Nature’s maiden hearts, thou informest love.
It is thy delight to see woman love man, the small ripplings of a human heart in love flutter thee in thy lofty seat.
Thou art the soul liberated through love; thou knowest the worth of love, flying for its sake even midst the cities’ smoke and dust, perchance, to save a human soul through love!
“Sisters of the Spinning-Wheel”:
Puran Singh.
LATER LYRICS: POPLAR, BEECH, AND WEEPING WILLOW
I
Shapely poplar, shivering white, poplar like a maiden,
Thinking, musing softly here, so light and so unladen,
That with every breath and stir, perpetually you gladden,
Teach me your still secrecies of thought that never sadden.
From the heavy-hearted earth, earth of grief and passion,
Maiden, would you spring with me, and leave men’s lowly fashion,
Skyward lift with me your thoughts in cumberless elation,
Every leaf and every shoot a virgin aspiration.
The blue day, the floating clouds, the stars shall you for palace
Proffer their cathedral pomp, dawn her rosy chalice.
Where the birds are, you shall throng and revel to be lonely
In the blue of heaven to spire and sway with breezes only.