“You say the world is sad, that all must die. Yet I would live! With humming-birds I sip The honey from the flower's painted lip. I hear the silver temple bell, and lie In poppy fields. And, though I know not why, A breeze has blown across my face the tip Of fairy's wing. Into the dawn I dip. Unto the night I lift my arms, and sigh, And wonder. With the firefly's wings I toy, And fear them not, for if they burn, the mad Imagined pleasure is the more complete. You say that life is sad,— then I am sad, And weep, and even tears are bitter-sweet. For they are shadows of the tears of joy!”