Look up! Yon field of blue
Broadcast with worlds is sown.
Use within use! Look up, O Man, and own
Vast worlds are also light and spiritual thought for you.

“Sunny shower! sunny shower!
'Twill not last half an hour!”
Clapping hands, Kitty forth, with her merry merry cry,
Crows the vaward of the year: and her sweet blue eye
Glimmers up, shimmers up to the sheen of the sky.

Hush! from yon gulf of leaves the brooding dove
Breathes the soft crushings of her heart of love.
O the sweet dove of love!

The blinding day glares on the granite hill.
The very grasshopper is still.
Through yon white stones the sportsman slow
Crosses the gully waterless;
Panting his dogs behind him go,
With lolling tongues in dry distress.