N For Nature

Day after day I find some new delight:

It was the grass that pressed upon my cheeks,

That had a touch as soft as Death's, when he

Comes to a sleeping child that never wakes.

And now the wind and rain: it was the rain

That made the wind reveal his breath at last;

But 'twas the wind that, travelling high and far,

Furrowed the Heavens with clouds from East to West.

And when the night has come, perhaps the Moon,

With her round face all shining clear and bright,

Will ride the dark, humped clouds with camels' backs-

And end my day with that last new delight.