We are Ever Getting
Things come into us, and we know not
When they come, or how:
We know not what's within, nor what
We are getting now.
O let our eyes be ever open,
And our bosoms wide;
Beauty is ever on us laving,
Like an incoming tide.
A flood of beauty is about us,
Pressing to get in,
Through cracks and crannies of our senses
To the deep cave within.
Not to be lost—though lost it seem—
Only to slumber long,—
And out in after days to stream
In gushes of sweet song.
When they come, or how:
We know not what's within, nor what
We are getting now.
O let our eyes be ever open,
And our bosoms wide;
Beauty is ever on us laving,
Like an incoming tide.
A flood of beauty is about us,
Pressing to get in,
Through cracks and crannies of our senses
To the deep cave within.
Not to be lost—though lost it seem—
Only to slumber long,—
And out in after days to stream
In gushes of sweet song.
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