For nature holds love’s thought and origin!
That bird dropped down upon the pool’s near hem
Like a red gem,
Shook off the hand; and left a vision glint,
That faint song-print—
Just gone.... Mark how the fishes flit and chase,
Lit to a passion, ’cross the water’s face—
So like the minutes moving in the space
Of this one day. What are the words they trace
Therein?... That bird flew to its nest just now