I sat upon a cushion of moss,
Listening,
Where the light played, and the green shadows:
What would you do . . . I asked my heart . . .
If you were a floating ship of the sky . . .
If you were a peering bird . . .
If you were a wild geranium?
And my heart made answer:
That is what I wonder and wonder!
After all it is life I love,
After all l am a living thing,
After all I am the heart of you . . .
I am content!
SNOW-CAPPED MOUNTAIN
Snow-capped mountain, so white, so tall,
The whole sea
Must stand behind you!
Snow-capped mountain, with the wind on your forehead,
Do you hold the eagles' nests?
Proud thing,
You shine like a lily,
Yet with a different whiteness;
I should not dare to venture
Up your slippery towers,
For I am thinking you lean too far
Over the Edge of the World!
THE BROOK AND ITS CHILDREN
O brook, running down your mossy way,
I hear only your voice
And the murmuring fir-trees;
Where are your children?
Where are the magic stones, your children?"
The brook answered me sweetly,
"I left them on the Alp,
In steep fields.
They were trying to hold me back,
To keep me from this shady path of happiness;
But I went onward day by day
Until they got used to seeing me pass.
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