NATURE’S HEART

I search for Nature’s heart beneath her dome, All free from jarring sounds; Out there my hungry spirit seeks a home, Out there, my feasting grounds. I love the giant oak, the poplar and the pine, Aye, balmful to my soul; I greet my feathered friends, and they combine To make me captive whole. I find no ghoul-like demon of the wood, Nor siren from the sea; A spirit high begets my ardent mood, But yields not me the key. And dreaming in the vale, or on a mountain height, Awed by the great abyss, My soul doth plead an everlasting right, “The secret of all this?” Both wild and winning are Mother Nature’s ways, Many, varied, one; In all she sings my soul her mystic lays, From flower to rolling sun. But oh to understand the purpose of her heart, Her princely, hidden life; Just what or who unfolds the vital part, Despite dark death and strife. O Faunus tell—return to earth and speak The word that satisfies; Or haughty mountain give, or valley meek, The answer to my cries. The gods are silent all! But drink may I Of Nature’s founts o’er flowing; I feel her throbs of heart in earth and sky, And loving leads to knowing. Henceforth, of all the wines of gods and men, To me give Nature’s nectar; Of all the feeble songs of tongue and pen From every dull director— Oh give me Nature’s rich and ripest lore, Her palaces and poses; Her peaceful ways and rest, her fullest store Of pure Pierian roses. Ah, this I know—’tis all I need to know— The great Mother has her plan; With God she labors long, at last to show Her perfect child and man.