Like a flower, like a tulip,
So fresh, so hardy,
So slim, so hasting,
The nose tip-tilted,
The mouth her mother's,
The eyes brighter
Than rabbit's or squirrel's
Suddenly peering
From bough or burrow;
All this in motion,
Motion and swaying,
As if all life
Were a wave of ocean,
As if all life
Were the clean stalk springing
Brightly, greenly,
From earth unworn,
To sway with sunlight,
To drink clear freshets,
Swiftly, oh, swiftly
To swell its bubble,
The staunch red flower
Hardy and mortal,
The bright flag
On the new hill,
Mortal, gallant,
As a cockerel's cry.
To this child,
To all swift children,
My great thanks
For their clear honor,
The hound running,
The flying fire.
