LYRICS. THE BREATHING EARTH. Oн, not by sight or sound alone, I guess This her light feet press, It would be told me, though I shut my eyes Against the ample sky's Pure witnessing, And saw not how the green blade thrusts its Up through the pleached gray, No tenderling! It would be told me, though I shut my ear Her heralds bring, The fluting thrush, the bluebird singing love, Hiding in heaven above His heaven-dyed wing. How, sight and sound shut out, should I still This way her light feet press, Light feet of Spring? way guess |