Poems (Van Rensselaer)/Initiation
INITIATION
I was tired of gardens of man's making,Thousand blooms that know each other not,Alien trophies of his covetous takingFrom far hills and valleys, in one spot Striving to make beauty for an eye Beauty-born disdains to satisfy.
So I prayed the dear earth to uncover,In the wild ways where she dwells alone,Secret places kept for her true lover,Sacred gardens of her happy own, Sunlit, shadowy, musical at morn, Where she hides her darling, beauty-born.
But she laughed as laughs a bounteous mother,Saying, Come in faith, with open eyes,Come in love, to all wild things a brother,Think not overmuch of mysteries; Ask no secrets, trust the common chance— By thy doorsill beauty waits thy glance.
Though, she said, I keep in sanctuaryHere and there an altar of delight,Even the roadside grass is tributaryTo his joy who journeyeth aright, And a whispering bush shall bid him hear All the wildwood singing in his ear.