Sunshine, O soul, is not a mood--

Sunshine, O soul, is not a mood--
Open the life unto the good.
The great sun globes itself at morning
In dewy lawns, but 'tis dark in wood.

Up, up, and purge thy spirit's sight.
See wheeling wings, superb in flight,
Of golden eagle's aspiration!
E'en thus aspire to the Central Light.

In loom divine the clouds are wove,
And shot with hues of irised dove,
The blinding shafts of light to temper
With airy curtains of Love's own love.