  Hail, first of the spring, Pearly sky-tinted thing Touched with pencil of Him Who rollest the year! Lo, thy aureole rim No painter may limn— Vision thou hast, and no fear! Fair child of the light, What fixes thy sight? Wide-open thy roll From the seal of the clod, And thy heaven-writ scroll Glows, beautiful soul, With the shining of God! Thou look'st into heaven As surely as Stephen, So steadfast thy will is! And from earth's inglenook Seest Christ of the lilies And daffadowndillies, And catchest His look. And a portion is mine, Rapt gazer divine, From thy countenance given— Angel bliss in thy face! I've looked into heaven As surely as Stephen, From out of my place! |
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