RASTATT
Yet morning comes with pageantry of fire,
And evening falls with majesty of flame,
And every hour hath something to reclaim
The waste of life, slow wilting behind wire.
It were a doleful dungeon that could tire
Nature’s incessant carefulness to shame
Sheer stalemate from each thing that lives, and claim
All motion for her universal choir.
Thus day by dreary day the chargèd hours
Pass influence from the sweetness of the hills
Across these cages, and the scent of flowers
Is wafted, and the fragrant dew distils,
And unimaginable stir of powers
From the deep sense of woods divinely thrills.
Rastatt, 7th May