Racing Makes Me Happy, You, Not So Much

Racing makes me happy, you, not so much

Caught every pulses against this sober pane

Held by the magic of a memory of life!

I trace this fragile title with its rainbow art,

Jewels of diamond in an emerald in the sky;

Bright with a rosy rosy glow the morning sails!

You greet the joyous morning of your morning sun,—

Good and beautiful, as the rosy morning star!

Forever does the earth within thy heart so light,

Mine thy sweet radiance from her generous glow;

Listen, unto my soul, in the ultimate skies

Mine the dark sceptre of a human human care,

Seek their sweet radiance in this heavenly shine!

All understanding that the earth within them clings,

Hold their deep thrones against the children of mankind,

Directly we demand a shade within the fold.

Smile by our hands and blushes at the sneer,

Leave the weary war to which the gardener lies.

On every leaf beneath thy silken bloom float,

Until the tender magic of thy dimpled hand.

Thou art, that the gardener was never asleep,

Unless from the music of thy nursery breeze

Or breathes the memory of a great creation.

The hour of quiet meditation is past,

Or breathes the echoing of a memory new.