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Normale Version: To Nature
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To Nature

It may indeed be phantasy, when I
Essay to draw from all created things
Deep, heartfelt, inward joy that closely clings;
And trace in leaves and flowers that round me lie

Lessons of love and earnest piety.
So let it be; and if the world rings
In mock of this belief, it brings
Nor fear, nor grief, nor vain perplexity.

So will I build my altar in the fields,
And the blue sky my fretted dome shall be,
And the sweet fragrance that the wild flowers yields
Shall be the incense I will yield to thee,

Thee only God and thou shalt not despise
Even me, the priest of this poor sacrifice.