Explore "Epiphany" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
There is nothing that eases my heart so much / As the wind that blows from the purple hills; / 'Tis a hand of balsam whose healing touch / Unburdens my bosom of ills.
There is nothing that causes my soul to rejoice / Like the sunset flaming without a flaw: / 'Tis a burning bush whence God's own voice / Addresses my spirit with awe.
There is nothing that hallows my mind, meseems, / Like the night with its moon and its stars above; / 'Tis a mystical lily whose golden gleams / Fulfill my being with love.
There is nothing, no, nothing, we see and feel.
That speaks to our souls some beautiful thought, / That was not created to help us, and heal / Our lives that are overwrought.