To field and forest The gifts of the spring, To hawk and to heron The pride of their wing; Her grace to the panther, Her tints to the dove. ... For me, O my Master, The rapture of Love! To the hand of the diver The gems of the tide, To the eyes of the bridegroom The face of his bride; To the heart of a dreamer The dreams of his youth. ... For me, O my Master, The rapture of Truth! To priests and to prophets The joy of their creeds, To kings and their cohorts The glory of deeds; And peace to the vanquished And hope to the strong. ... For me, O my Master, The rapture of Song! |