Edwin Arnold

We are the voices of the wandering wind,
Which moan for rest and rest can never find;
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We are the voices of the wandering wind,
Which moan for rest and rest can never find;
Lo! as the wind is so is mortal life,
A moan, a sigh, a sob, a storm, a strife.

Life, which all creatures love and strive to keep
Wonderful, dear and pleasant unto each,
Even to read more

Life, which all creatures love and strive to keep
Wonderful, dear and pleasant unto each,
Even to the meanest; yea, a boon to all
Where pity is, for pity makes the world
Soft to the weak and noble for the strong.

The Dewdrop slips into the shining sea!

The Dewdrop slips into the shining sea!

The sunbeams dropped
Their gold, and, passing in porch and niche,
Softened to shadows, silvery, pale, and read more

The sunbeams dropped
Their gold, and, passing in porch and niche,
Softened to shadows, silvery, pale, and dim,
As if the very Day paused and grew Eve.

Making all future fruits of all the pasts.

Making all future fruits of all the pasts.