Sometimes they dart across our turbid sky
      Like a quick flash after a heated day. 
      A moment, where the sombrous shadows lay
    We see a glory.  Though it passed us by
      No earthly power can filch that dazzling glow
      From memory’s eye, that instant’s shine and show.

    Life is so full of joys.  The alluring sea,
      This morning clear and placid, may, ere night,
      Toss like a petulant child, and when the light
    Of a new morning dawns sweep grand and free
      A mighty power.  If fierce, or mild, or bright,
      With every tide flows in a fresh delight.

    I can remember well when first I knew
      The fragrance of white clover.  There I lay
      On the warm July grass and heard the play
    Of sun-browned insects, and the breezes blew
      To my drowsed sense the scent the blossoms had;
      The subtle sweetness stayed, and I was glad.

    Nor passed the gladness.  Though the years have gone
      (A many years, Beloved, since that day,)
      Whenever by the roadside or away
    In radiant summer fields, wandering alone
      Or with glad children, to my restless sight
      Shows that pale head, comes back the old delight.

    Oh! the dark water, and the filling sail! 
      The scudding like a sea-mew, with the hand
      Firm on the tiller!  See, the red-shored land
    Receding, as we brave the hastening gale! 
      White gleam the wave-tops, and the breakers’ roar
      Sounds thunderingly on the far distant shore.

    This mad hair flying in the breeze blows wild
      Across my face.  See, there, the gathering squall,
      That dark line to the eastward, watch it crawl
    Stealthily towards us o’er the snow-wreaths piled
      Close on each other!  Ah! what joy to be
      Drunk with salt air, in battle with the sea!

    So many joys, and yet I have but told
      Of simple things, the joys of air and sea! 
      Not all these things are worth one hour with thee,
    One moment, when thy daring arms enfold
      My body, and all other, meaner joys,
      Fade from me like a child’s forgotten toys.

    One thought is ever with me, glorying all
      Life’s common aims.  Surely will dawn a day
      Bright with an unknown rapture, when thy way
    Will be my journey-road, and I can call
      These joys our joys, for thou wilt walk with me
      Down budding pathways to the abounding sea.

Song.

    Low laughed the Columbine,
    Trembled her petals fine
      As the breeze blew;
    In her dove-heart there stirred
    Murmurs the dull bee heard,
    And Love, Life’s wild white bird,
      Straightway she knew.

    Resting her lilac cheek
    Gently, in aspect meek,
      On the gray stone,
    The morning-glory, free,
    Welcomed the yellow bee,
    Heard the near-rolling sea
      Murmur and moan.