THE PADDOCK
For the Tui hath eaten, the Robin hath rested,
Little Makers of life in my bosom have nested:
To hot and heavy Midsummer sheep
Cool have I given, and shelter’d sleep:
I have added a smile to the Paddock’s face:
I have fill’d with a picture a lonely place:
I have made the feet of the Breezes bright,
Held a glass to the eyes of Light,
Made Hearing happy, and sweeten’d Sight!
I have changed the sum of the World—
There is nothing wholly the same
As it was ere the first little root,
The first little shoot of me came.—
The voyaging oceans of the Air,
Me refreshing, refreshed were:
My leaves from the sunlight gathering green,
Rippled and re-illum’d the sheen:
Still the Wind that strikes my leaves
Part of its own push receives:
Humbly housekeeping, my root
Did the Paddock soil transmute,
And by simply standing, I
Joined have the Earth and Sky.
Yea, a myriad Ministries,
Silent, secret Agencies,
Pulsing on their world-wide race,
Me have trodden, as a bridge,
Me have made their meeting-place:
And traffic of an untold range
Hath held me market and exchange.
—Yea, though now I fail, forbid
Of all offices bereft,
Nothing doing that I did,
All I did is left!
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