I have seen a flower,
and I want to know the tree--
though but a sparrow spun and turned to see.
In all the brightness to flit--
In the folded lace and wild to sit--
What song have I here?
What song has me hear?
Full from the earth, full to the sky,
no, not nest-- alight, adorn, a branch with rest--
the wide sky full risen, and this height gazing past west.
For every tree there is the sea--
though far, and far, and far and free--
though here only sweet in sap it be.
I have seen a flower,
and I want to know the tree.