Dies Dominica! the sunshine burnsstrong incense on the breathing fields of morn:lucid, intense, all colour towards it yearnsthat souls of flowers on the air are born.
What claustral joy to-day is on the air--expanding now and one with the celebrant sun--and fills with pointed flame all things aware,all flowers and souls that sing--and I am one!
Dies Dominica! the passion yearns,and the whole world and singer is but one flowerfrom out whose luminous chalice odour burnsintenser toward the blue thro' this keen hour:
--this hour is my eternity! the soulrises, expanding ever, with the sight,thro' flowers and colours, and the visible wholeof beauty mingled in one dream of light.