So beautiful, so beautiful
Is all this happy earth to-day;
I sit within the shadows cool,
I sit and dream with naught to say.
The flowers in the garden nigh,
They think a thousand simple things;
Above them floats a butterfly
With all their purple on his wings.
He is the guardian of their band,
He watches how their blossoms blow,
Then hies him back to fairyland
And tells them all they wish to know.
A fancy this, but fancies come
With all the changing of the mood;
The swaying wind, the distant hum
Of joyous life within the wood.
The tinkle of the little streams,
The murmur of the bees that win
Their way from where the moorland gleams,
To swell their golden store within.
So much of life around me lies,
This summer day, to stir and call,
A sadder look would dim my eyes
If I could think that death was all.