The sky-blue smiles above the roof
Its tenderest;
A green tree rears above the roof
Its waving crest.

The church-bell in the windless sky
Peaceably rings,
A skylark soaring in the sky
Endlessly sings.

My God, my God, all life is there,
Simple and sweet;
The soothing bee-hive murmur there
Comes from the street!

What have you done, O you that weep
In the glad sun,--
Say, with your youth, you man that weep,
What have you done?



IT IS YOU

It is you, it is you, poor better thoughts!
The needful hope, shame for the ancient blots,
Heart's gentleness with mind's severity,
And vigilance, and calm, and constancy,
And all!--But slow as yet, though well awake;
Though sturdy, shy; scarce able yet to break