Dreams
The sap is parched in stem and branch and leaf,
Yet it shall bud again and shed soft scent,
And lift a fragrant odour to God's throne—
Even if my blood forms the new sap thereof.'
Yet it shall bud again and shed soft scent,
And lift a fragrant odour to God's throne—
Even if my blood forms the new sap thereof.'
The man
The breath of April blowing on green fields
Has power to ripen and to fructify,
Because the pleasant rain is in its breath,
But when fierce Autumn comes, what then—what then?
Has power to ripen and to fructify,
Because the pleasant rain is in its breath,
But when fierce Autumn comes, what then—what then?
The Voice
I should even now have bloomed a rose in Heaven.
You never gave me roots nor planted me,
Wherefore I claim my life.
You never gave me roots nor planted me,
Wherefore I claim my life.
The Man
Bend to my lips—
A portion of my soul awaits you—take—
A portion of my soul awaits you—take—
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