With an eye made quiet by the power of harmony, and the deep power of joy, we see into the life of things.

We live by admiration, hope and love.

The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.

Pleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find.

Small service is true service, while it lasts.

And often, glad no more, We wear a face of joy because We have been glad of yore.

But trailing clouds of glory do we come, From God, who is our home: Heaven lies about us in our infancy!.