But how can I live without you ? — she cried.
I left all world to you when I died:
Beauty of earth and air and sea;
Leap of a swallow or a tree;
Kiss of rain and wind’s embrace;
Passion of storm and winter’s face;
Touch of feather, flower and stone;
Chiseled line of branch or bone;
Flight of stars, night’s caravan;
Song of crickets — and of man —
All these I put in my testament,
All these I bequeathed you when I went.
But how can I see them without your eyes Or touch them without your hand?
How can I hear them without your ear,
Without your heart, understand?
These too, these too
I leave to you!


PRAISE life — Praise life
Before the fall
Of winter’s knife,
They stand and call,
O man, praise life.
The bee who goes
To the aster knows
December’s fear;
The butterfly
On a daisy’s eye,
That death is near;
Flies in the sun,
That summer’s done.
Ripe berries wait
Their certain fate.
In red and gold
The lesson’s told;
In ecstasy
The end foresee.
A final cry
From earth to sky,
Tree, fruit and flower,
Before the hour
Of sacrifice:
Praise life, O man,
While yet you can.