Transformation.
Afar from country lanes and leas,1
O’er pavements foul with stain and spot,2
I hastened, holding—half forgot—3
In careless hands, a clustered knot4
Of rosy, frail anemones.5
The sun shone round them, gold and rose,6
And sudden wonder dawned on me,7
For that mean by-way seemed to be8
More fair than isles of Arcady,9
Or splendours of eternal snows.10
Transfigured stretched the squalid street,11
With all its tawdry shops arow :12
I felt the cowslips round me blow,13
The cold spring twilights clear and slow,14
The dews of dawn about my feet.15
O wonder-wealth without alloy,16
Breath from the far-off fields divine !17
The spring sun sheds his amber wine,18
And makes the viewless glories mine,19
The earth’s illimitable joy.20