Sympathy

Is nature all so beautiful?
The human feeling makes it so:
The sounds we love, the flowers we cull,
Are hallow'd with man's joy or woe.

The little speedwell's tender blue
Is not so pure and delicate,
As is the simple wish in you
That will its tardy advent wait.

The breezy hush, the rustling change,
Of leaves that on the poplar shake,
Are not so sweet, or half so strange.
As flutter in your heart they make.

The tiny drops of dew, that shine
Upon the leaflets new and rare.
Are scarcely half so crystal-fine
As your delight to watch them there.

The wishing for the green of trees
Is fresher than the leaves that come:
The blowing of a scented breeze
Is sweetest round a happy home.

The ripple of a tranquil bay,
The water-lisp in curve or creek.
Are softest on the welcome day
We trust to find some friend we seek.

O human m.en and women, all!
With hum.an feelings, strange and fine!
O hopes, O meanings mystical!
O joy divine; O woe divine!