The sun and moon I see
   Beside me in the grass:
The moon, a daisy’s face
   As pure and fine as glass;
The sun, a dandelion
   As golden as a pound —
Oh what a firmament
   Is this which I have found!

White stars the elm tree shakes
   To twinkle where they lie
As bright upon the earth
   As any in the sky.
This field is heaven’s glass
   And gazing in I see
What disembodied joys
   The future holds for me.