To rise from all the lone and sleeping earth,
I lift the lid softly and noiselessly,
Lest some dark, wandering spirit of the air
Perchance should catch with his quick ear the sound.
And steal my treasures. With a glistening eye
And leaping pulse, I tell them o’er and o’er,
Musing on each, and hallow it with smiles
And tears and sighs and fervent blessings.
Then,
With soul as proud as if yon broad blue sky