C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Ina Donna Coolbrith (1841–1928)

SWEET, sweet, sweet! Oh happy that I am!

(Listen to the meadow-larks, across the fields that sing!)

Sweet, sweet, sweet! O subtle breath of balm,

O winds that blow, O buds that grow, O rapture of the spring!

Sweet, sweet, sweet! O skies, serene and blue,

That shut the velvet pastures in, that fold the mountain’s crest!

Sweet, sweet, sweet! What of the clouds ye knew?

The vessels ride a golden tide, upon a sea at rest.

Sweet, sweet, sweet! Who prates of care and pain?

Who says that life is sorrowful? O life so glad, so fleet!

Ah! he who lives the noblest life finds life the noblest gain,

The tears of pain a tender rain to make its waters sweet.

Sweet, sweet, sweet! O happy world that is!

Dear heart, I hear across the fields my mateling pipe and call.

Sweet, sweet, sweet! O world so full of bliss,—

For life is love, the world is love, and love is over all!