"O flowers," she sang, "sweet flowers,
Where beauty hath her throne,
Yea, smile away life's hours;
For you they'll soon be flown!
Then nursed awhile in womb of mother earth,
Ye'll rise, to taste with me, the joys of second birth!

O birds of happy wing!
With flowers' sweet incense blend
Your joyous notes and sing;
For soon your songs will end!
When summer's warmth again awakes your trills,
Ye too may know the joy which now my bosom fills!

The world seems one great heart,
Whose pulses move my soul.
I feel a feeble part
Of some mysterious whole!
Thy mighty heart, O God, 'tis thine alone,
That makes all things now breathe, responsive to mine own!"