Poetry Archives

The sky-blue smiles above the roof
       Its tenderest;
A green tree rears above the roof
       Its waving crest.

The church-bell in the windless sky
       Peaceably rings,
A skylark soaring in the sky
       Endlessly sings.

My God, my God, all life is there,
       Simple and sweet;
The soothing bee-hive murmur there
       Comes from the street!

What have you done, O you that weep
       In the glad sun,—
Say, with your youth, you man that weep,
       What have you done?