ALCHEMY
Reading edition
I was ill, and with a touch She reclaimed my waning strength. Bless her, God, and give her much Joy in love, and days of length. What is tragic Pain to me? Such her magic— Alchemy. She smiled on me When I was ill And, lo! From pain set free I go And drink my fill At her beauty’s fountain flowing! Oh, the bliss of breathing Fragrance from her graces blowing; Grace like colour seething, From a thousand flowers, Scenting June’s rich bowers. I am well, and she has made Every sorrow Bring a morrow Happier than today. Every sadness is repaid With rejoicing; Like a voicing Woodland in the month of May. Merry is her soul, And witty, too, her nimble mind— Like a golden bowl Of medicines of every kind. Laughter lurks in all her dimples, Loving hands of hers give simples— Soothing, cheering, happy one— Treasure of the golden sun!