A Summer Sanctuary

I found a yellow flower in the grass,   A tiny flower with petals like a bell, And yet, methought, more than a flower it was,—   More like a miracle. Above, the sky was clear, save where at times   Soft-tinted fleeces drifted dreamily, Bearing a benison to sunny climes   From altars of the sea. In vestments green the pines about me gleamed   Like priests that tend the sacrificial fire; And the faint-lowing cattle almost seemed   Some far intoning choir. It was a place and an occasion meet   For some high, solemn wonder to befall; And, when I saw the flower at my feet,   I understood it all.