The blossoms of a Judas tree
Deep pink against an azure sea,
A silver moth on thoughtless vving,
A hidden bird that hghts to sing,
A little cloud that wanders by.
Across the endless field of sky.

A city in the far away,
Upon the hills beyond the bay,
And over all, the sun divine.
Pouring his stream of burning wine
Like nectar strong with youth and mirth,
Into this goblet of the earth !