THE PADDOCK
Song of the Ti.
Hail, eyes of the Sun!
Welcome, wanderer Wind!
Little have I to give,
Now, but a welcome kind.
For my drooping ribbons are split and sere,
My flowers faded, this many a year,
And my sap is drowsy-dry.
Waters, rippling at my foot,
Will ye miss the uneager root?
Stay no more my sagging strength—
Down, O Earth, this log of length
Draw, and let it lie!
O fresh and new-found Brethren, take my toil,
Take, take my share in Sun, and Air and Soil,—
And let me die!
Summon’d, once, by the Sun,
Bid by the Air to birth,
Coax’d by the calling Rain,
Woo’d and guided to gain,
I sprang from the speeding Earth.
And the Earth upheld me, the Sunlight sought,
Help the Dews and the Breezes brought;
Flowing full to a narrow issue,
The making, marrying Forces wrought
Out of nothingness, out of nought,
Sap that circled, and good green tissue.
Till the seedling sprang to a lusty sprout,
The stem shot high, and a Star shone out,
Star upon Star shone round about—
Brightness up in the Blue!
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