From “Pippa Passes”
THE YEAR ’S at the spring,
And day ’s at the morn;
Morning ’s at seven;
The hill-side ’s dew-pearled;
The lark ’s on the wing;
The snail ’s on the thorn;
God ’s in His heaven—
All ’s right with the world.

From “Paracelsus”
I KNEW, I felt, (perception unexpressed,
Uncomprehended by our narrow thought,
But somehow felt and known in every shift
And change in the spirit,—nay, in every pore
Of the body, even,)—what God is, what we are,
What life is—how...