Loit'ring in the sunlight, o ye lotus-loving people,
Dawdling thro' the daisies with your slow, slow feet;
Ev'ry lane's an aisle for you and ev'ry tree's a steeple,
And the wind your organ-music as it murmurs in the wheat.

You that know the splendour of the rosy-risen morning,
You that hold the secrets of the calm unnumber'd stars,
You that steal the brownness of the berries for adorning,
You to whom the wide earth is a roadway for your cars!

You that wrap the white dust round your naked feet forever
As you travel thro' wild roses to your goal of dim desires,
You that chase the South wind and the raindrops down the river,
You that seek contentment with a heart that never tires!

Live and loiter in the sunlight, o ye lotus-loving people,
In your azure-domed cathedral ye shall worship as is meet,
Where ev'ry lane's an aisle for you and ev'ry stem's a steeple,
And the wind your organ-music as it murmurs in the wheat.