I am fire and dew and sunshine,
I am mist on the foamy wave,
I'm the rippling note from the field-lark;s throat,
I'm the jewel hid in the cave.

I'm the lightning flash on the mountain,
And the cold rose-red of the dawn,
I'm the odor of pine and purple vine,
And the willowy leap of the fawn.

I'm the sigh of the south wind of autumn,
I'm the scent of the earth at first rain,
I'm the wild honker call of the earliest fall,
I'm the yellow of ripening grain.

I'm the music no singer has dreamed of,
I'm the joy in the heart of man;
I'm the lyric time of no poet's rhyme,
I'm the glad, the immortal Pan.