Whence do ye come, ye creatures? Each of you Is perfect as an angel! wings and eyes Stupendous in their beauty—gorgeous dyes In feathery fields of purple and of blue! Would God I saw a moment as ye do! I would become a molecule in size, Rest with you, hum with you, or slanting rise Along your one dear sunbeam, could I view The pearly secret which each tiny fly— Each tiny fly that hums and bobs and stirs Hides in its little breast eternally From you, ye prickly, grim philosophers With all your theories that sound so high: Hark to the buz a moment, my good sirs!SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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