My Faith

I trust in what the love-mad mavis sings,

In what the whiteweed says whereso it blows,

And the red sorrel and the redder rose;

I trust the power that puts the bee on wings,

And in the socket sets the rock, and rings

The hill with mist, and gilds the brook, and sows

The dusk; is on the wind which comes and goes,

The voice in thunders and leaf-murmurings;

I trust the might that makes the lichen strong,

That leads the rabbit from her burrow forth,

That in the shadow hides, in sunlight shines;

I trust what gives the one lone cricket song,

What points the clamorous wild-goose harrow north,

And sifts the white calm on the winter pines.