Sun, Air

The sweet effusion of this Easter lily Is not too sweet for me -- I breathe its scent as true As earth, plain dust, The dead and drying roadside grass. My Lord! Any sweetness, coarse Or fine, seeps past the rock -- Wakes, breaks, Brings air! Pour any sweetness forth. Fill! Till men walk out from Every tomb to love The sun and sweet profusion.

You've read  of  free articles. Subscribe to continue.