From longing, that fine seed,
Dropt in this clay by wanderers of the air,
Spring the green strength of hope, and faith, and deed--
The crowning flower of prayer.
Comfort and use it bears;
Men freely pluck of leaf, and fruit, and stem,
Much for the nation's healing; as for prayers,
The angels gather them.
The fair mysterious bloom
Melts from our sight, and shuns too eager eyes--
And, the sole seen fruition, in its room
The seed of longing lies.
Flower of perfume and light!
Thy growth which sows the wilderness so wide,
Blessing the earth with green, the air with white;
Its power hath testified.
I know not what thou art,
Where Heaven wears thee radiant on her breast,
Our talisman, that ever keeps our part.
In memory with the blest--
But ne'er were harvest worth
This flower if all the world could bloom tonight;
What miracle, should morning find on earth
So fragrant and so white!
