The red Sahara in an angry glow, / With amber fogs, across its hollows trailed / Long strings of camels, gloomy-eyed and slow.
O fateful flower beside the rill- The Daffodil, the daffodil!
It is a comely fashion to be glad; Joy is the grace we say to God.
When sparrows build and the leaves break forth My old sorrow wakes and cries.
I have lived life long enough to thank God that all my prayers have not been answered
Youth! youth! how buoyant are thy hopes! they turn, like marigolds, toward the sunny side.