Warm whisp'ring through the slender olive leaves
Came to me a gentle sound
Whisepring of a secret found
In the clear sunshine 'mid the golden sheaves:
Said it was sleeping for me in the morn
Called it gladness, called it joy
Drew me on -- "Come hither, boy" --
To where the blue wings rested on the corn
I thought the gentle sound had whispered true, --
Thought the little heaven mine
Leaned to clutch the thing divine
And saw the blue wings melt within the blue!