The Bud

When the bud shows itself in the morning’s fresh beauty It reveals at that moment its bosom of gold

It quaffs sparkling wine from the tavern of dawning And draws from sun’s goblet the life it can hold.

It rends the sun’s heart, its own head extending: And oh: what delight it has of that rending.

Let the heat of thy radiance in me find abode And that vision’s reflection fill all mirror’s space

Let your gleaming become at the life of my heart And my soul in your light as in cradle-bed swing.

And little by little bring again flowing joy In my grief shining clear as the jewel in a ring

The vision of you let me put far away And just like a bud live in your lap of light.

Let me bare to its nakedness my hidden thought; Make plain all the truth of being’s sad plight.