Theophany

Deep cradled in the fringed mow to lie
And feel the rhythmic flux of life sweep by,
This is to know the easy heaven that waits
Before our timidly-embattled gates:
To show the exultant leap and thrust of thing
Outward toward perfection, in the heart
Of every bud to see the folded wings,
Discern the patient whole in every part.

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