She rose up with the gentle dawn; The dew-dropped trees her light reflected. She spoke the words of peaceful morn, Opened my eyes, and I was resurrected. She laughed and made the world like new. Her laughter was clear water in the stream. My thirsting soul she watered through and through. She does not mock and to herself is true And intoxicates alike the blithe and mean. Mercurial happiness! She flies and blesses us, On unfurled wings She stirs the air and sings, And sorrow fades like morning mist. This spirit, we can’t hold her, And no hand can mould her. In my own hand She chanced one day to land, And once being kissed, I watched her die.