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SEASIDE GOLDEN-ROD.
How much of life's rapture is your right?
In earth's joy what may your portion be?
Rocked by breezes, touched by tender light,
Fed by dews and sung to by the sea!
In earth's joy what may your portion be?
Rocked by breezes, touched by tender light,
Fed by dews and sung to by the sea!
Something of delight and of content
Must be yours, however vaguely known;
And your grace is mutely eloquent,
And your beauty makes the rock a throne.
Must be yours, however vaguely known;
And your grace is mutely eloquent,
And your beauty makes the rock a throne.
Matters not to you, O golden flower!
That such eyes of worship watch you sway;
But you make more sweet the dreamful hour,
And you crown for me the tranquil day.
That such eyes of worship watch you sway;
But you make more sweet the dreamful hour,
And you crown for me the tranquil day.
