So weak, the gilded butterfly scarce perches on my head.
Yet I am visited from heaven, and He that smiles on all
Walks in the valley, and each morn over me spreads His hand,
Saying, "Rejoice, thou humble grass, thou new-born lily-flower, 25
Thou gentle maid of silent valleys and of modest brooks;
For thou shalt be clothed in light, and fed with morning manna,
Till summer's heat melts thee beside the fountains and the springs,
To flourish in eternal vales." Then why should Thel complain?
Why should the mistress of the vales of Har utter a sigh?' 30
She ceas'd, and smil'd in tears, then sat down in her silver shrine.
Thel answer'd: 'O thou little Virgin of the peaceful valley,
Giving to those that cannot crave, the voiceless, the o'ertired;
Thy breath doth nourish the innocent lamb, he smells thy milky garments,
He crops thy flowers while thou sittest smiling in his face, 35
Wiping his mild and meeking mouth from all contagious taints.
Thy wine doth purify the golden honey; thy perfume,
Which thou dost scatter on every little blade of grass that springs,
Revives the milked cow, and tames the fire-breathing steed.
But Thel is like a faint cloud kindled at the rising sun: 40
I vanish from my pearly throne, and who shall find my place?'
'Queen of the vales,' the Lily answer'd, 'ask the tender Cloud,
And it shall tell thee why it glitters in the morning sky,
And why it scatters its bright beauty thro' the humid air.
Descend, O little Cloud, and hover before the eyes of Thel.' 45
The Cloud descended, and the Lily bowed her modest head,
And went to mind her numerous charge among the verdant grass.
II
'O little Cloud,' the Virgin said, 'I charge thee tell to me
Why thou complainest not, when in one hour thou fade away:
Then we shall seek thee, but not find. Ah! Thel is like to thee
I pass away; yet I complain, and no one hears my voice.' 51
