What magic shall solve us the secret Of beauty that’s born for an hour? - Madison Cawein

I am a part of all you see
In Nature; part of all you feel:
I am the impact of the bee
Upon the blossom; in the tree
I am the sap,—that shall reveal
The leaf, the bloom,—that flows and flutes
Up from the darkness through its roots.

Some reckon time by stars,
And some by hours:
Some measure days by dreams,
And some by flowers:
My heart alone records
My days and hours.

A rope, a prayer, and an oak-tree near,
And a score of hands to swing him clear.
A grim, black thing for the setting sun
And the moon and the stars to look upon.