I am a field spread warm before the sun —
Lord of my day! Your love is warmth and light.
In me all growth and pleasure are begun:
A bird soars singing to salute your height.
Love, my fond words,
Are happy birds!

I am the sun's self,
And you the waters of a still bright lake;
My arms encircling airs,
Which draw you, drink you, for my sun-ship's sake.