What is a moment, fleeting as the dew,
Fragile as frost ferns on the window-pane?
What chemistry as secret as the blue
That stains the wind-flower, builds the mind again
Upon a pointed moment till it breaks
Its customary sheath with sudden wings?
What alchemy within a moment makes
The spirit consequential as a king’s?
There is no beauty sweeter in the fields
Than can be gathered in this single breath,
This exquisite and fleeting span that yields
The only ecstasy from birth to death.
The heart upleaps as when a mountain doe
Startles at spring, across a glen of snow.
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