Hail, first of the spring,
Pearly sky-tinted thing
Touched with pencil of Him
Who rollest the year!
Lo, thy aureole rim
No painter may limn—
Vision thou hast, and no fear!
Fair child of the light,
What fixes thy sight?
Wide-open thy roll
From the seal of the clod,
And thy heaven-writ scroll
Glows, beautiful soul,
With the shining of God!
Thou look'st into heaven
As surely as Stephen,
So steadfast thy will is!
And from earth's inglenook
Seest Christ of the lilies
And daffadowndillies,
And catchest His look.
And a portion is mine,
Rapt gazer divine,
From thy countenance given—
Angel bliss in thy face!
I've looked into heaven
As surely as Stephen,
From out of my place!