Horrible To Say, In A Manner I

Let Him Easter In Us, Be A Dayspring To The Dimness Of Us, Be A Crimson-cresseted East.

Look At The Stars! Look, Look Up At The Skies! Oh Look At All The Fire-folk Sitting In The Air! The Bright Boroughs, The Circle-citadels There!

Any Day, Any Minute We Bless God For Our Being Or For Anything, For Food, For Sunlight, We Do And Are What We Were Meant For, Madefor--things That Give And Mean To Give God Glory.

As Kingfishers Catch Fire, Dragonflies Draw Flame

Nothing Is So Beautiful As Spring - When Weeds, In Wheels, Shoot Long And Lovely And Lush; Thrush's Eggs Look Little Low Heavens, And Thrush Through The Echoing Timber Does So Rinse And Wring The Ear, It Strikes Like Lightning To Hear Him Sing.