In Nature’s drama each is an actor,
But Nature herself is sole director.
‘Tis at her will the daisies grow,
At her command the winds blow free,
And man, with much to do and know,
Can never reach her harmony.
The painter longs in vain to find
What she has known a thousand years,
In vain the poet’s eager mind
Strives for her lore, through wishful fears.
The lowest or the loftiest creature
Can never know the heights of Nature.
A poet lives to do his part,
Tho’ Nature moves the endless whole,–
A heart alone can reach a heart,
A living soul translate a soul!