185
The captive flower in the King's wreath
smiles bitterly when the meadow-flower envies her.
186
Its store of snow is the hill's own burden,
its outpouring of streams is borne by all the world.
187
Listen to the prayer of the forest
for its freedom in flowers.
188
Let your love see me
even through the barrier of nearness.
189
The spirit of work in creation is there
to carry and help the spirit of play.
190
To carry the burden of the instrument,
count the cost of its material,
and never to know that it is for music,
is the tragedy of deaf life.
191
Faith is the bird that feels the light
and sings when the dawn is still dark.
192
I bring to thee, night, my day's empty cup,
to be cleansed with thy cool darkness
for a new morning's festival.