A Spring Harvest/Creator Spiritus
CREATOR SPIRITUS
The wind that scatters dying leaves And whirls them from the autumn treeIs grateful to the ship that cleaves With stately prow the scurrying sea.
Heedless about the world we play Like children in a garden close:A postern bars the outward way And what's beyond it no man knows:
For careless days, a life at will, A little laughter, and some tears,These are sufficiency to fill The early, vain, untroubled years,
Till at the last the wind upheaves His unimagined strength, and weAre scattered far, like autumn leaves, Or proudly sail, like ships at sea.