Penetralia

I am a part of all you see     In Nature; part of all you feel:     I am the impact of the bee     Upon the blossom; in the tree     I am the sap, - that shall reveal     The leaf, the bloom, - that flows and flutes     Up from the darkness through its roots.     I am the vermeil of the rose,     The perfume breathing in its veins;     The gold within the mist that glows     Along the west and overflows     With light the heaven; the dew that rains     Its freshness down and strings with spheres     Of wet the webs and oaten ears.     I am the egg that folds the bird;     The song that beaks and breaks its shell;     The laughter and the wandering word     The water says; and, dimly heard,     The music of the blossom's bell     When soft winds swing it; and the sound     Of grass slow-creeping o'er the ground.     I am the warmth, the honey-scent     That throats with spice each lily-bud     That opens, white with wonderment,     Beneath the moon; or, downward bent,     Sleeps with a moth beneath its hood:     I am the dream that haunts it too,     That crystallizes into dew.     I am the seed within the pod;     The worm within its closed cocoon:     The wings within the circling clod,     The germ, that gropes through soil and sod     To beauty, radiant in the noon:     I am all these, behold! and more -     I am the love at the world-heart's core.