Wonderment

Then a wind blew;  

And he who had forgot he moved  

Lonely amid the green and silver morning weather,  

Suddenly grew  

Aware of clouds and trees

Gleaming and white and shafted, shaken together  

And blown to music by the ruffling breeze.  

Like flush of wings  

The moment passed: he stood  

Dazzled with blossom in the swaying wood;

Then he remembered how, through all swift things,  

This mortal scene stands built of memories,—  

Shaped by the wise  

Who gazed in breathing wonderment,  

And left us their brave eyes

To light the ways they went.